Call Me Maybe
by Rookblonkorules
Summary: Reid's world is turned just about upside down when he receives a call from someone from his past. Someone he thought he'd left behind. Maybe this time he'll find his happily ever after. Lila/Reid. Please read warnings.
1. Blast from the Past

**Note:** I really shouldn't. I shouldn't be starting _or_ publishing a story when I have so much on my plate, but, well... here we are. I'm going to publish this to sort of test the waters. I'm imagining that this takes place sometime early on during season 3, so kind of in between Gideon and Rossi.

I'd originally intended for this to take place during an AU timeline, which is why in the earlier version of this chapter, it mentioned that only a month had passed between current time and the events between Lila and Spencer. However, I don't think I will be doing that and so I've changed it. If this has caused any confusion, I sincerely apologize.

I would also like to extend my thanks to Dextolan, who was very encouraging when I mentioned this idea to her a while back. Go check her out after this! She's got awesome stories!

 **Warnings:** This story will be dealing with themes of sexual harassment. While there will be nothing explicit, if that is something that you find triggering, please be warned.

 **Summary:** Reid's world is turned just about upside down when he receives a call from someone from his past. Someone he thought he'd left far behind.

* * *

His phone rang.

Cursing under his breath, Reid groped blindly for it, knocking a stack of incomplete case files likely left there by both Morgan and Prentiss off his desk in the process.

It seemed that the piles were steadily growing larger by the week- and with Prentiss taking some time off to spend with her mother… he'd probably end up with the majority of her share anyways.

He sighed.

"Better keep better track of your phone, Pretty Boy!" Morgan teased from his desk. "Maybe it won't run away from you then."

"Shut up," Reid muttered. "Maybe if you actually kept my desk clear of all your work, I'd actually be able to find it."  
He grabbed the phone, bringing it to his ear and running one hand through his hair, effectively standing it on end.

"Hello?" he said. Feeling more than a little irritated with the way the day was going, he couldn't help it if he sounded a little snappish.

"Spencer?"

The voice had him sitting up even straighter. He was most definitely alert now.

He'd heard that voice only a month ago.

It was the voice he'd wondered if he'd ever hear it again.

And he cringed as he realized how he'd sounded upon answering the phone.

"Lila?"

Lila.

Lila Archer.

The first girl who'd ever kissed him.

The first girl he'd ever kissed.

Suddenly flustered, he was acutely aware of his heart beating in his chest.

His tongue felt dry, cleaving to the roof of his mouth.

Reid struggled to find something to say, even though a quick glance at his clock told him it was… close to two.

"L-lila, it's been…! I mean… h-hi."

He stopped, vaguely aware of the fact that he sounded like a scratched CD stuck on repeat.

"You said I could call you about anything, right?" Lila asked. "I'm sorry. I know this is… sudden. If you're too busy, I can..."

"No!" Reid said quickly. A little too quickly, he thought with a blush. Slower now, he repeated, "No, there's no need to apologize. I… We can talk now," Reid answered, tripping over his words, before he realized that she had hesitated.

He leaned down, collecting the stack of files off the floor and setting them back on his desk. He'd have time to organize them later.

If there was one thing he had learned in the short time he had spent with Lila Archer, it was that she didn't hesitate.

Ever.

Something was wrong.

And, while it hurt a little to think that she was only calling him now because something was wrong, that feeling was quickly blocked out by concern.

"What's wrong?" he asked. "Has something happened?" He ran his tongue over his lips. "Are you okay?"

"It's not for me," Lila answered. Her voice sounded thick, as if she were trying to speak through her nose.

Or crying.

"Lila, whatever's happened, you can talk to me…" He kept his voice gentle.

"I know. It's what you said when… It's what you said before," Lila answered. She swallowed audibly before continuing. "It's my friend. She's… she acts too."

"Oh."  
Immediately, he felt as though it were the wrong thing to say and he cringed.

He swallowed, however, sensing there was a hidden gravity to what she was about to tell him.

Lila hadn't just called to tell him that she had a friend who acted.

"You have to understand…" Lila paused. "She doesn't want to go to the police. She's so scared."

"Lila." He blushed, acutely aware that he had Morgan's full attention now. "Lila, you need to slow down. I… Tell me what happened."

She took a deep breath. "I know. I know. I'm sorry."

"You don't have to apologize," Reid assured her quietly. "Just tell me what you can."

"Have you ever heard of Robert Merton?" Her voice had suddenly taken on a very flat tone, as if she were working hard to shut out whatever emotions she had associated with that name.

Reid blinked, wondering where this was going. Sure… Lila was an actor, but… would she really call him and tell him she needed his help, only to ask him this? "He's a director," he answered.

He couldn't keep himself from mentally listing the man's projects in his head. He had seen one or two of his movies. They weren't the greatest. He suspected Morgan might be more of a fan.

Lila's bitter laugh brought him back to the present.

"That's not all he is," she said.

Unconsciously, Reid gripped the edge of his desk.

"What happened, Lila?" he asked quietly with a sideways glance at Morgan.

He could hear her deep breath on the other end of the line as she steadied herself. "Spencer," she said. There was a plea in that one word. "There isn't a lot I can tell you, but…" She hesitated. "My friend…" There was another shaky breath on the other end of the phone, like she was trying hard to keep it together. Reid's heart clenched tightly in his chest and his stomach rolled.

"Something happened. He made a move." She was speaking quickly. Like she wanted to get them out and over with as quickly as possible. And, as he processed them, Reid couldn't blame her.

Lila sniffed again, taking a moment to collect her wits. "It didn't… nothing happened beyond that. That's what she said, but… but she left. The project. She doesn't feel safe. Not anymore. And… and, Spencer, this might not even be the first time…"

"Lila…" Reid interrupted her gently. "Tell me what I can do."

"I know it's stupid. You're busy and you..."

"No." Reid shook his head vehemently, even though he knew the gesture would be lost on Lila. "No, it's anything but stupid. Just… tell me what you need. Anything."  
There was a pause. Then Lila spoke again. "I know it's not… it's not really case the FBI can take, but I… I don't know who else he's done this too. And... I didn't know who else to call."

"It's okay, Lila." Reid ran his tongue over his lips and glanced around the bullpen. No one was paying him any attention and even Morgan had gone back to his paperwork, much to his relief. "I'm going to do what I can. I promise you."

Even as he said the words, his hand formed a fist by his side. He'd keep his promise to Lila. He'd make sure of it.

* * *

"Hotch, um, could I have a moment?"

Hotch took a moment to eye the young man fidgeting in his office.

It took him another moment to make his decision.

Setting aside his papers for the moment, he straightened. "What is it, Reid?"

Reid swallowed, squeezing his eyes shut for a brief second, before refocusing them on Hotch. "It's..." he seemed to force himself to stand a little taller, "...it's Lila."

That certainly had Hotch's attention.

"Lila," he repeated. A sudden understanding awoke in him. He squinted at Reid, surprised. "The girl from Los Angeles."

She had been a lot more than just "the girl from Los Angeles.

Of that, they were all certain.

"Lila called me asking for help," Reid said quickly. "I… if it was anything else, I wouldn't have bothered you with it." A faint red tinge colored his cheeks, but he didn't drop his gaze.

Hotch folded his hands, his mouth dipping downward. "Reid," he spoke slowly, "I can't give you leave…"

Reid raised his chin a little higher. "I'm not asking you to give me leave," he said. "I have my vacation days. I can use those. But she asked for my help, Hotch. I can't… I can't ignore her. I won't ignore her."

"I'm not asking you too."

Hotch's words had Reid's head snapping up.

"What?"

He wasn't sure what he had been expecting but it wasn't… this.

Whatever this was.

"Reid, I don't pretend to understand what's between you and Lila Archer, but I do know this. I would never do something to prevent you from aiding someone you care about."

Reid nodded, a little dumbly, feeling weak with relief. "I know, sir, but I'm just… I'm asking your leave to see this through."

Hotch closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. When he opened them again, he was completely serious.

"We might need you. With Prentiss gone, it would be hard being down two agents."

"I'll come back," Reid said quickly. "I'll come back if you need me. If Strauss..."

"If Strauss says anything, you can leave that to me to handle," Hotch said firmly.

When Reid glanced at him in surprise… and gratitude, Hotch sighed lowering his eyes. "I can't give one of my agents leave on such a short notice," he told him. "It's not impossible," he continued, speaking before Reid could voice a protest, "but it is unusual. However, I think I can make it an exception this one time."

Reid lowered his eyes, understanding the full extent of what his unit chief was doing for him. "I understand, Hotch. Thank you," he said.

"I trust you, Reid," Hotch said. "I wouldn't be granting you this otherwise."


	2. Prentiss Steps Up

**Note:** I'd like to start out by thanking every one of you who have reviewed the first chapter of this story. For anyone interested, I've edited chapter one a bit more to fit in better with this one.

* * *

Emily Prentiss met him just outside the office door.

"Hey," she said, catching his arm before he could plot a strategic course to avoid her. "I was hoping to catch you before Ieft. What's going on?"

Reid suddenly found it very hard to look her in the eyes. He managed anyways. "Nothing," he said. He deliberately straightened his shoulders. "Nothing," he repeated. "Why… uh, why do you ask?"

"Because you went in there looking very much like you'd seen a ghost. Or like you'd heard from one at least."

At that, Reid couldn't contain a small, startled laugh. "No," he said, shaking his head. "No, she's definitely not a ghost."  
"So it's a she then?" She looked surprised and… suitably impressed. Reid blushed when he realized what he'd just unintentionally given away. "Reid, who was on the phone? I promise, I'm not about to make fun of you."

Slightly irritated now, Reid gently extricated his arm from Prentiss' grip. "Maybe it's none of your business, Emily," he ground out.

He regretted it near instantly. Even without seeing her face, he would know such words cut. He'd experienced them himself before. So he was tired of people prying… that didn't excuse lashing out at the people he trusted to have his back.

Prentiss was speaking again before he could formulate a proper apology. "Reid, if something's going on… you do know that we're all here for you, right? You can reach out."

Reid squeezed his eyes shut, clenching his hands into fists and then flexing them open again.

When he opened them again, he said, "It's Lila Archer."

"Who?" Emily squinted at him, confused. She hadn't been there for that case, he remembered, and there hadn't been any reason to fill her in. It was just a run of the mill stalker case and they had treated it as such.

With the exception of Morgan's occasional teasing jab, no one had brought up Reid's brief history with the actress.

It had been Elle with them back then, Reid recollected. She'd been the one to tear out the incriminating photos when they'd caught the man snooping through Lila's backyard.

He'd been annoyed and embarrassed and confused and very, very wet, but… he'd realized later how much he'd appreciated the gesture.

Maybe he should… he should take Prentiss into his confidence.

"Um, she was an… an actress. She was being stalked. And… we took the case. We helped her. And I… I…" He swallowed. "There may have been something between us."  
Prentiss' brows went up and Reid flushed crimson.

"We kissed. Once," he confessed. His eyes met hers squarely. "But beyond that… nothing… nothing ever happened. We… meant to keep in touch. Even did for a little while, but then..."

"Life happens," Prentiss said. "I get it."

Reid looked at her in surprise. "You do?"

She looked at him sharply, before shrugging her shoulders nonchalantly. "Sure," she said. As if sensing they were treading on uncomfortable ground, she shifted topics. "So she called you again after how long?"

"It was… it was about two years," he admitted. He'd followed her work for several months, sure. Her show, _Emotional Cages,_ had been cancelled about six months after the case that had brought them together… two months after Lila herself had quit.

In an interview, she had said something about searching for something deeper, more fulfilling.

Reid had gotten the sense that there was something more to it than that. Unfortunately, by that time, their attempts at communicating had already fallen to pieces and he never got the chance to ask her.

Now he wondered…

"What did she call you about?" Prentiss asked. "Somehow I get the feeling that this wasn't just a social call, an attempt at reconnecting."

Reid shook his head. "No, it wasn't."

She waited expectantly for him to continue.

"Emily," he said softly, surprising her with the use of her first name. "I don't know if I can say anymore. She asked for my help for a… for a friend."

Prentiss stepped back, but there was a gentle understanding in her eyes now. Even if she didn't know the details of Lila's call, maybe she was starting to understand the nature of it.

But then she asked him something that surprised him. "Do you need help?"

"What?" Reid looked at her, startled.

Then, as if realizing what she had just said, she blinked and looked away. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to intrude. I just thought… No, it doesn't matter what I thought."

"I thought…" He cleared his throat. "It's your vacation. You were going to be spending a week with your mom, weren't you?"

Prentiss tried to smile, but it came across as more of a grimace. "It wasn't going to be a week. We were going to meet for lunch. I can call her and tell her we can postpone it to another time. Reid, I know she called you, but I don't want you to have to be alone for this."

Reid tried to swallow, but his throat suddenly felt too thick. "I appreciate the thought, Emily," he said. And he meant it. "But I… you don't have to do this."

"No, I don't," she agreed. "But friends don't do things just because they have to, Reid. I'm sure a second pair of eyes wouldn't hurt to have around. And… if Lila's friend is female, she might be more uncomfortable opening up to another woman," Prentiss argued reasonably.

Reid hesitated. He could see the logic behind her reasoning, but he wasn't… he wasn't sure. Not yet.

He didn't want to face it yet either.

"I need to call her," he mumbled, brushing past Prentiss hastily. "To let her know I can come. And I'll… I'll ask her."

He left her standing there, looking after him. He'd call her when he had an answer from Lila.

He didn't look back.

* * *

Reid spent five minutes staring at the _call back_ option on his phone. There was a voice screaming in the back of his mind. This was urgent. He couldn't wait. She was waiting for his answer.

He ran a hand over the lower part of his face and stared some more.

Lila's number stared back at him accusingly.

He moved his thumb, tapped the screen and brought the phone to his ear.

The call was answered on the second ring.

"Hello? Spencer?"

Reid envisioned her clutching the phone cord to her ear, one hand twisting the cord around and around as she spoke. He quickly discarded the image.

She was most likely using a cell phone anyways.

"Lila," Reid fumbled with the words around his dry tongue, "I… spoke with Hotch."

There was silence on the other end.

For a moment, he wondered if the call had disconnected, but there was no dial tone.

Then Lila whispered, "Oh," so softly over the phone that Reid had trouble hearing her.

"Lila, no!" Reid guessed immediately what she had been thinking. He wondered… he wondered if anyone had ever tried speaking up before. That could explain why she thought even he wouldn't be able to help her. "I have… he gave me leave. I'm coming down."

"You are? Spencer, I…" There was a soft, little gasp. "Thank you… I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't…" She trailed off, clearly unwilling to continue with that line of thinking.

Reid shifted, feeling uncomfortable. He hadn't mentioned Emily yet. "Lila," he said carefully. "I have a friend. In the BAU." He took a deep breath. "I didn't… I didn't tell her what you told me. I didn't want to betray your trust, but she… she knows that there's something. She figured it out. But I… she could help."

He didn't know what he expected her to say. He was almost afraid to find out.

Instead, she said simply, "I trust you, Spencer. I just want this to be over."

* * *

 **Note:** I feel like it might seem a little weird, how awkward and kind of subdued their interactions have been so far, especially with how forward and confident Lila was in the show, but... after two years things are bound to be a little awkward and it's not exactly a happy occasion considering the circumstances.

I originally planned on making this solely a Lila/Reid story, no interference from anyone else, but after some thinking, I decided that a female star dealing with sexual harassment might have an easier time being open with another woman.


	3. Touching Down and Catching Up

**Note:** Here it is: the next chapter. :) I'd like to thank everyone who took the time to leave reviews. Your generosity is always appreciated.

* * *

It wasn't an official BAU case so they were both taking a commercial flight to the location of Lila's movie shoots.

It would take them longer to get there, but the private jet couldn't be spared to transport two agents on "vacation." It was an inconvenience they could deal with.

They'd stopped at one of the many places available at the airport for coffee and Spencer took a slow sip of his, turning the page of the magazine he'd grabbed.

It was going to be a long flight and they'd both decided they would need something to keep themselves occupied.

Prentiss sat across from him, deeply involved in an Agatha Christie novel.

Reid glanced at her title, _Murder on the Orient Express._

"Did you know Agatha Christie once disappeared for ten days?" he asked.

Prentiss glanced up, at once amused and patient. Her lips quirked into a small smile. "Really?"

Reid nodded, eager to share what he knew. "People thought it was a publicity stunt, the start of one of her novels, something like that. Especially since it was rumored her husband had taken up with another woman and wanted to get a divorce."

"So what's the punchline?"

Reid grinned. "It turned out she had driven out of town for a trip to the spa… possibly to take her mind off of what was going on at home."

Prentiss shook her head. "That's something," she said wryly. "If only half our cases could be so simple." She looked out the plane window. "The poor woman," she continued, more softly.

They let the silence grow, the seconds ticking by without either one making a move to break it. The only sound was that of Reid turning the pages of his magazine. He was going too slowly to be actually reading it, his attention lingering over the pages of one article in particular with what was almost reverence.

Prentiss shifted restlessly. Finally, she turned her attention to her companion's choice of reading material.

He had at first gone for the latest issue of _Science._ But then he'd seen her face on the cover of _Vanity_.

He'd quickly put down _Science_ and selected that one instead.

Prentiss had glanced at him but said nothing.

Now, she asked, "How is it?"

Reid frowned, shutting the magazine. "Honestly, most of it is garbage." He did a quick flip through the pages, before tossing it to the side. "I never quite understood the thing with celebrity gossip."

Emily gave him a pointed look. He wasn't fooling her. "Did it tell you anything you didn't already know about… her?" She gave the magazine a sideways glance.

Reid shrugged his shoulders hesitantly. "No," he confessed. "It's… an old issue." He didn't volunteer any more information and Prentiss was left unsure as to whether or not she should ask for more.

"What was Lila like?" She settled on what seemed like a safe question.

Reid pondered the question.

"Unpredictable," he finally settled on. "She wasn't going to let anyone tell her how to live her life."

He smiled fondly at the recollection, lowering his gaze to his lap with an almost bashful air.

"Sounds like your typical Hollywood diva," Prentiss snorted. But if Reid had fallen for her, if he was willing to go this far for her, there had to be something more.

Because the Reid she knew was anything but shallow.

"She wasn't typical." Reid sounded almost put out by the idea. "A bit of a diva, yes, but… she wasn't afraid. She went through life on her own terms."

He turned his eyes out the plane's window, drinking in the sight of clouds drifting by.

As awkward as it would be, Spencer's cover would be as Lila's long distance boyfriend. Simple enough. And maybe once upon a time, it wouldn't have been far from the truth.

Reid wasn't sure about now.

Prentiss' was slightly less straightforward. Or maybe more so, but Spencer was of the opinion that they were undecided.

"Just tell them that I'm your cousin," Emily had suggested. "I doubt he'll look too deeply into it."

Reid's brow had crinkled in confusion. "Why would I bring my cousin down to see my girlfriend though?" he asked.

"That doesn't matter," Prentiss said, a little exasperated. "People do all kinds of crazy things. What's one more?"

Well… Reid couldn't deny that. He just hoped that she wouldn't be wrong.

He had leaned back against the seat with a sigh, but he'd decided to humor her anyway. "Fine," he said.

Turning serious, Prentiss leaned her elbow against the armrest, resting her chin on her palm. "So what's the girl's name? Lila's friend."

"Meghan Seymour," Reid answered immediately.

Recognition lit up in Emily's eyes. "The actress who played Star in that… _awful_ remake of _The Lost Boys?"_

Reid allowed himself a half-smile. "That's the one."

Prentiss shook her head. "Gosh, that one was… that was terrible, wasn't it?"

"So I've heard. I never saw it, but… Morgan told me about it."

"Oh no…" Prentiss looked sympathetic. "He was pissed, wasn't he?"

Reid laughed softly. "Yeah. Oh yeah. 'The original was a classic.'"

"Hey!" Prentiss reached out, slapping his knee with the flat of her palm. "It was!"

Prentiss softened, her demeanor changing to one more serious now that the joke was over. "Poor girl," she murmured.

Reid dipped his head in agreement and set his coffee cup in his seat's empty cup holder.

He stood up, only making a minimal effort to straighten out his shirt after being seated for so long.

"Where are you going?" Prentiss asked mildly concerned.

"Uh… restroom."

Her eyebrows went up in understanding. "Ah. Too much coffee?"

Reid made a face. "Something like that."

Emily's eyes followed him until he was out of sight. She settled back with a sigh, taking a sip out of her coffee.

It wasn't her usual preference, but she was used to making due with what was available to her.

Her eyes fell on the magazine Reid had left on his seat.

The actress on the cover was young, blonde, a looker for sure. She could definitely see why Reid was so smitten.

Before her better senses could argue against the idea, Emily had taken it. For a moment, she held it in her lap, examining the photograph.

 _Profiling,_ though she wouldn't admit to herself.

But the blonde on the cover gave nothing away. She had the typical Hollywood good looks and bright smile.

She flipped to page 23- the page number listed for the article on the front.

There was a photograph- full color and covering the top half of both pages.

His hair was different and the photographer hadn't been at the angle necessary to catch a good shot of his face, but Prentiss knew Reid was she saw him.

He was standing with the girl on the cover, his hand on her shoulder. Her chin was resting on his hand.

Prentiss could make out the blurry and out of focus shapes of other members of the team- was that Gideon?- around them, but those two were in their own little world.

It was at once a good-bye and a reluctance to part.

And then the headline:

 _Has Cupid's arrow struck the heart of Hollywood's latest young diva? Lila in love with FBI savior?_

A little melodramatic, yes.

Prentiss ran her finger over the image.

But maybe it was accurate.

"Oh," she whispered.

* * *

Reid shifted the carry-on's strap a little further up his shoulder. After standing in one place for the better part of ten minutes, it was starting to bite into his flesh.

Standing on the sidewalk near the airport watching cars streak past was not the best of ways to start the trip to California, but that was situation Reid and Prentiss found themselves in.

"I don't suppose the first stop on our list is a rental car agency," Prentiss said ruefully. She clutched the handle of her single suitcase.

"No need." Reid jogged forward, waving one hand in the air. "Taxi!"

It took three more tries, but finally, one of the yellow service cars stopped for them.

After the cab driver, a middle-aged man, well-groomed and with a neatly trimmed mustache, had helped them get their bags into the trunk, he'd held the door open for them, before climbing back into the front.

"Where to?" he asked his passengers. He sounded cheerful, upbeat as if he were living his dream.

Maybe he was. Reid had found that often people had strange aspirations.

Without waiting for an answer, the cabbie lit up a cigarette.

"Um… Is there…" Reid hesitated before making his request, "is there a florist's anywhere nearby?"

"Ah." The man grinned around his cigarette. "Here for a little love, are we?"

Reid's eyes flew open. He was startled into stammering a few lines, then let the subject drop, the blood rushing to his cheeks.

"Hey," Prentiss leaned forward, addressing the man. She placed her hand on Reid's shoulder, a silent show of support. "It's not like that."

To his credit, the man seemed suitably chastened. "My apologies, son," he said. His use of the word 'son' seemed genuine. "I didn't intend to make you uncomfortable."

Reid shook his head, dismissing the man's apology. "It's okay," he said. There was no need and no point in letting it go on.

"Well, then," the man grinned again, "you wouldn't mind if I smoked, would ya? I can open the windows if you like."

"Go ahead," Reid mumbled absently. He then glanced at Prentiss, as if remembering that she might object.

Prentiss shook her head. "I'm fine," she told the cabbie.

The man nodded, acknowledging their answers and pulled away from the curb and into traffic.

"One thing you'll never miss about California," the man quipped, grinning at his passengers through the rearview mirror. "The traffic."

He didn't wait for either of his passengers to laugh at his joke. It was just as well. It would have been a very long wait indeed.

Sighing, the man flicked his cigarette out the window. "So you folks here on a honeymoon or what?"

"Uh… no," Prentiss said quickly. "We're not… we're not… together. Not like that."

"We're cousins, actually," Reid put in.

Prentiss looked at him, surprised.

Reid offered her a smile.

She returned it gratefully.

* * *

"So you decided not to go for flowers?" Prentiss asked curiously. She shut the door to the cab, waiting for Reid to finish paying the driver.

"I wouldn't have known what to get her," Reid confessed.

"But you know what her favorite flower is, don't you?" she pressed.

"Red anemones."

"So?" she asked gently, touching his arm.

Reid sighed. "Her stalker. Sometime before we took the case, her stalker," he refused to address Maggie Lowe by name, "bought her red anemone flowers. I… I didn't want to stir up any bad memories."

"Oh." Prentiss withdrew her hand. "Still it would have been a nice gesture on your part."

"Maybe." Reid wasn't sure if he saw it the same way, but he didn't disagree. "This doesn't seem like the time or place though."

* * *

Reid had expected Lila to be the one to greet them

He was wrong.

The man that came to greet them was tall, fit, with neatly combed blonde hair and the kind of smile that you only see in toothpaste commercials. His eyes hid behind a pair of sunglasses.

"Hey." The blonde man offered his hand for them to shake. After only a split second's hesitation, Reid took it.

Emily followed his example.

The man promptly pulled his hand back. He tucked both into his pocket and rolled his shoulders.

Despite the easy smile, Reid got the feeling that he wasn't happy to see them.

"My name's Gregor," he said. He offered no last name. "Lila told me to see to your comfort." Then, reading the unasked question, he said, "She had a scene to shoot, of course." He squinted at Reid. "Am I to understand that you are her… boyfriend, she said?"

Reid straightened his shoulders. "You are."

Gregor snorted softly at that, turning away and gesturing for them to follow him with a wave of his hand. "Lucky man," he muttered. He tilted his head, peering at them over the rim of his glasses.

Prentiss raised an eyebrow and directed a questioning look Spencer's way.

"You got something you want to say?" she asked Gregor directly.

Gregor half-turned, tilting his head back with an air of lazy insolence. "Lila's never mentioned a boyfriend." His lips pulled back into a tight smile that was more of a grimace than anything else. "That's all."

"Oh. And you're the kind of person Lila would confide in." Prentiss raised her chin a little higher, flashing him a sweet smile. "Right."

Gregor's lips dipped into a frown, but he moved on without further comment.

Reid hefted his bag higher up his shoulder, giving Prentiss a grateful smile.

Prentiss smiled back and squeezed his elbow briefly.

"He seems delightful," she commented. "Think he's jealous?"

Reid's brow furrowed. "Should he be?"

Maybe Gregor was jealous, maybe he wasn't. His feelings had no bearings on the reason they were here.

Emily grinned, shaking her head.

"I'd certainly say so," she said.

* * *

Lila shut the door to her trailer with her foot.

With a tired sigh, she crossed the floor and settled herself in the modest armchair.

A knock sounded almost immediately at the door and Lila sighed, running a hand across her forehead.

"Not now, Annette," she called. The woman had tried following her back to her trailer, eager to fix her makeup after this latest shoot but Lila wasn't having any of it.

This last scene had been emotionally grueling.

All she wanted to do was rest.

Lila reached back, feeling the strands of her hair, then dropped her hand.

There were a sink and mirror across the trailer. Was getting a glass of water really worth the effort it took to move?

She was exhausted.

But the water wasn't going to come to her. Maybe if she'd actually let Annette in, the woman would have helped her, but right now, Lila wanted her privacy.

It wasn't entirely fair, she reasoned, to be so harsh on Annette. The woman was trying. And this shoot had been hard on all of them after Meghan's departure.

Lila crossed to the sink, turning on the faucet and splashing water on her face.

She ran a hand through her hair and examined herself in the mirror.

Lila had to give her credit. Annette knew her work.

The subtle differences- makeup that made her eyes look larger, cheekbones sharper, not to mention the intricate dutch braid twisted into her hair- the little details that transformed Lila Archer into Emma Grace.

It was uncanny at first, searching the mirror for your own face and finding someone else staring back at you instead.

Lila searched several seconds more. She sighed, leaning down over the sink. She splashed more water on her face and scrubbed, scrubbed till she was sure every trace of Emma Grace was gone and only Lila Archer remained.

She reached back, tugging the hair tie out and unwinding her braid. For good measure, she ran her fingers through it, trying to fluff it out more.

She picked it up, dropped it back down and plunked herself back down in her armchair. She buried her face in her hands, suddenly, ridiculously, fighting the urge to cry.

Lila had managed to get through most of her life faking it if not making it. She'd found she could keep it together when she was the only one at stake.

That had all changed when she learned Michael was dead.

She'd changed- after Maggie. She'd grown up. She wasn't that naive little girl so willing to be a pretty face and nothing more, nothing less.

And now-now it was Meghan and not her and she had no idea what to do.

So she called Spencer.

A part of her- a selfish part of her- knew that she had wanted to see him again. He'd saved her life after all.

It was only normal. Wasn't it?

But the larger part of her wanted Meghan to feel safe again, wanted Meghan to be able to live her dreams.

Meghan was her friend and, even if she wasn't, she deserved as much.

There was a knock on the door.

* * *

 **Note:** I'm not one for horror, really. Or vampires (can't stand _Twilight_ or _Vampire Diaries_ etc.) for that matter. But _The Lost Boys_ was one of my favorites, so I thought it was worth mentioning.

They have not, in reality, done a remake. Thank goodness.


	4. The Past is Still Between Us

_Lila knew in an instant who it was that had entered her trailer._

 _Only Meghan did so unannounced and uninvited. Not that Lila minded._

 _In the time that they had known each other, they'd become close._

 _She didn't look up from where she was applying her eyeliner in the mirror._

 _Annette was good, but Lila liked to apply her own makeup when she could get away with it._

" _Hey, Lila." Meghan paused, giving the door several experimental shoves, as if she were doubly ensuring that it was shut- and shut well._

 _That alone sent off several warning bells in Lila's skull._

 _It was different- different from Meghan's customary airy uconcern._

 _Lila straightened, setting the tube down, and turned around._

" _Meg? Is something wrong?" she asked, concerned._

 _There was a big misconception among moviegoers that Hollywood's female stars were always beautiful. That they cried the attractive, delicate tears of their characters._

 _It wasn't true._

 _Meghan's eyes were bloodshot, the light was reflecting off the tear tracks on her cheeks … even the tip of her nose was tinged red._

" _Can I talk to you, Lila?" she asked. She was panting softly. She had the look of a frightened rabbit, ready to bolt at the slightest hint of danger._

 _Lila blinked. Again, she was taken aback by the oddity of the situation. Meghan was forward. Meghan was not timid. It just confirmed her suspicions that that there was something wrong here. She recovered herself, flipping her hair over her shoulder. She took a step forward. "O- of course you can. Meghan, what…?"  
_ " _No! I mean…!" Meghan started forward, raising her hands to the same level as her waist, as if she'd intended to rush Lila, to physically stop her from doing… something._

 _The problem was Lila had no idea what that something was._

" _You can't talk to anyone about this Lila."_

 _That stopped her dead in her tracks._

 _She scanned her friend, scrutinizing every visible inch of her. There were no signs of violence that she could see, but… did that necessarily mean anything?_

" _Did something happen with Ben?"_

 _Meghan's eyes widened at the mention of her often distant boyfriend, but she shook her head._

" _No. Ben and I…" She was tracing a pattern on the wall with her finger. "That ended."_

 _Lila was shocked. "When?"_

 _Meghan folded her arms around herself, eyes focused down at her shoes. "Two days ago," she admitted. She looked back up, biting her bottom lip. "I didn't want anyone to know."_

 _Meghan crossed the room, slumping down into Lila's armchair. She pulled her knees up and rested her forehead against them._

 _Lila closed the distance between them, placing a gentle hand on Meghan's shoulder. Slight tremors were running through Meghan's body._

" _Meghan, what happened?" Lila asked, point blank. She started kneading Meghan's shoulders. It was a calming technique they often used on the rare occasions that nerves got to them before a big shoot._

 _Stage fright could still be a thing. Even for them. They were human after all._

 _Meghan stiffened, but then she lowered her knees. "How well do you know Rob?" she asked._

 _Lila's brows furrowed in confusion. "Rob?"_

" _You know who I'm talking about."_

 _Of course she did. But that wasn't the point._

 _Lila's frown deepened, but she continued the massage. "Since when do you call him that?"_

 _Meghan stopped for an instant. "He asked me to," she said. "I thought it just meant... I didn't think it meant anything."_

" _I'm sure it didn't." Lila started smoothing down Meghan's hair and waited for her to continue._

 _She parted the hair down the middle. Her fingers worked with a practiced deftness as she twisted and worked the two halves- one little strand at a time- into a loose fishtail braid._

 _She left it hanging down Meghan's back without bothering with an elastic._

 _But she wasn't sure._

 _Something twisted in her gut, a snake that coiled in her gut._

 _Meghan had started picking at her jeans. "He's been talking to me," she said. "I thought it was nice, y'know? Like he was being nice?" She swallowed thickly._

" _Yeah, I know," Lila agreed. The snake in her stomach gave another lurch, constricting into an even tighter ball._

" _He'd… compliment me a lot. Tell me I was pretty." She rocked forward a little. "I used to like it." She sniffed, and wiped at her eyes with one thumb. "It wasn't like Ben and I were serious or anything. But then he kept insisting we have dinner together. In his trailer. And I didn't want to."_

 _Her breath was coming in between soft sniffles and she took a moment to compose herself. "I told him I was with Ben. But… I guess… I guess he found out that we broke up."_

* * *

For a moment, Lila could only stare at the newcomers dumbly.

There was a sudden dryness in her mouth as if it were stuffed with cotton balls. Her knees felt weak and she rested a hand against the doorframe.

"Spencer?" she whispered.

He wasn't alone, she noted.

There was Gregor, of course. And a dark-haired woman.

Lila assumed she was the friend Spencer had mentioned over the phone.

"Yeah…" Spencer smiled- his awkward, sincere smile, the one that made her heart do a little flutter in her chest each time she saw it.

He still had his bags, she noticed. The woman did too.

"Yeah. It's me, Lila."

Her heart was beating rapidly in her chest. She wondered if the others could hear it as well as she could…

But, no… of course not. That was a silly thing to think.

She tried to think of something… of something intelligent to say. But for once in her life she couldn't.

She, Lila Archer- was rendered speechless.

It was the woman who broke the silence.

"Lila," she said gently. Lila's gaze flickered to her and she noticed vaguely that the woman's eyes were kind. "Can we come in?"

"Oh." It was like she had suddenly been electrified. She glanced behind her into the trailer, before stepping aside. "Of course."

She locked eyes with Spencer as he passed her, and her heart jumped to her throat. She swallowed it back down when Gregor caught her attention.

The man had mounted the first of the steps.

"Thanks," she said, and she meant it, "but I can handle it from here."

Gregor stopped where he was, but he didn't seem ready to leave. His expression, not quite hostile yet, was still challenging.

"Planning on spending time with your… boyfriend?" He almost played with the word, feeling it out.

Lila wrapped her arms around herself, refusing to back down and glared at him. Calling on every ounce of the diva left within her, she tossed her hair. "That's my business," she told him, making extra effort to sound flippant.

Finally, he shrugged. "Your choice," he said and left.

Lila watched as he went, not once looking back.

She sighed in relief, pushing back her fringe of blonde hair. She pulled the door shut and turned to face her two guests.

Spencer was standing two paces apart from her. His eyes were soft with sympathy. "Lila…" he began.

He hadn't finished before Lila had thrown her arms around him.

"You came," she whispered into his neck. She squeezed her eyes shut against overwhelming emotion. Her bottom lip was trembling. "Thank you."

His arms wrapped around her, holding her close. "Of course," he said softly. "Of course I came."

She treasured the feeling, relishing his presence. She hadn't… she hadn't realized how much she'd missed him. Not till now.

They pulled apart, reluctantly at first, but then they stepped back… as if remembering that it had been two years since they'd seen each other.

Lila ducked her head, brushing her hair away from her face.

Spencer smoothed his shirt out. "Lila, um…" He shot a backwards glance towards his female companion. "This is Emily. Uh… Emily Prentiss."

The dark-haired woman stepped forward, a warm smile in place. She extended her hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Lila," she said when Lila accepted it. "I wish we were meeting under better circumstances."

"Yeah," Lila agreed. She offered Emily a tight, half smile.

Spencer came behind her. His hand landed softly on her shoulder.

"Lila," he said gently, "we're going to have to talk to Meghan."

* * *

 **Note:** Just a short message of gratitude to all those who've taken the time to leave reviews. I appreciate them all. :)


	5. We're Here to Help

" _It's not like we were trying to keep it a secret," she continued. She'd gone back to picking at her jeans. "But he showed up at my trailer again. He said he'd heard about Ben."_

 _She reached back, fingering the braid, but she left it done up._

 _Meghan was breathing quickly now. Her hands were trembling. She clenched them into fists, pressing them against her eyes, before she gasped out a sob. "I was so_ stupid!"

* * *

Lila swallowed back any thoughts she had.

"Meghan's still in the city." Lila's fingers were tapping the steering wheel. "She… she's not staying." Before she knew it, the words were pouring out of her mouth. "She's leaving. Tomorrow, I think. Her parents live in Washington. She's going to be flying out to see them until she can find work."

Her lips were trembling again. She was crying. She tried quickly to wipe them away, because she didn't… she didn't want them to see.

\

Prentiss gave Reid a significant look, before asking, as gently as possible. "Is there any possibility she could be convinced to stay?"

"No!" Lila gasped. She looked at Prentiss, horrified. "You can't ask her to stay! She's going through enough as it is!"

"That's not…" Prentiss started.

"Lila," Reid interrupted gently. His hand on her shoulder had the effect of calming her. Maybe not entirely, but enough for her to be willing to listen. "Right now, Meghan is our only witness. If we want to get evidence to actually convict Merton of any wrongdoing, then it's important that we have access to our witness."

"It's going to be hard enough," Lila said miserably. She took one hand off the wheel to push her hair behind her ear, "bringing this shit up again."

Prentiss leaned forward. "It'll be how we catch him," she said sympathetically. "It won't change what he's done to her, but she'll have justice."

Lila was silent for several seconds. When she spoke again, it was in a more subdued tone. "Why can't she just leave?" she asked. "Why can't you get the information you need over the phone?"

Prentiss and Reid exchanged a glance. Profiling worked if they could see who they were talking to. By her body language, Meghan would be telling them what her voice wouldn't.

But maybe… maybe once was enough.

"We'll see how this goes," Prentiss said.

The drive continued on in silence.

* * *

The house they pulled in front of was a modest, two story home.

There was a conspicuous lack of a _For Sale_ sign our front, something Reid considered to be odd if she was moving out.

Prentiss raised her eyebrows as if to suggest that she'd expected something a bit more cozy for an actress, but she was wise enough not to say anything about it.

Both she and Reid stepped aside, letting Lila take the steps first. She rang the doorbell without any preamble, stepping back and crossing her arms across her chest after doing so.

Out of the corner of his eye, Reid caught a flicker of movement as someone peeked out the curtain to get a look at them.

The figure disappeared before he could get more than a glimpse. He returned his attention to the door in front of them.

The door opened. The girl who faced them was young. Reid estimated that she couldn't be older than twenty-three… and he didn't miss the way she had positioned herself.

Her body partially obscured by the door, she had still managed to strategically place herself, blocking their way into the house.

She relaxed visibly when she saw Lila. She didn't say anything, but then… she didn't need to. Her eyes spoke volumes all on their own. Grief, anger, relief. They all warred to get their own space.

She opened the door a little wider, enough for them to get a better look at her. Her dark brown hair was pulled back and she wore a green scoop neck blouse with jeans, torn at the knees in a sort of fashion statement.

Aside from the fact that her wardrobe looked more expensive than what one would find in the typical American household, Meghan was dressed like an average soccer mom.

Lila returned Meghan's look with a sad smile of her own. "Hey, Meg," she said softly.

"Hey," Meghan answered. Her eyes flickered to Reid and Prentiss. "You brought them?"

Lila nodded. "They're gonna help you," she said.

Meghan studied them. "You're gonna put him away?" she asked. Was Prentiss imagining things or did it seem like her eyes had lit up faintly at the idea?

If she wasn't, Prentiss didn't blame her one bit. If she'd been assaulted or close to it, she'd want the scumbag responsible locked up as soon as possible.

"We're hoping that will be the end result," Prentiss said. "And if we find what we're looking for, we will." She paused, letting that sink in, before asking, "May we come in?"

Meghan hesitated, looked wordlessly to Lila.

Some sort of non-verbal communication that Prentiss couldn't see and wasn't privy to passed between them, because a second later, Meghan had stepped out of the way entirely, opening the door wider to allow them passage.

Lila stepped in first. She stopped briefly to place a sympathetic hand on Meghan's shoulder, before heading further into the house. She clearly knew where they were heading, so Reid and Prentiss followed.

Lila led them into a spacious living room. The couch and the easy chair both had matching floral prints.

Judging by the older model television situated in the room and the stack of three, maybe four, movie cases, Meghan wasn't much of a TV buff.

A dog-eared novel was resting on the seat of the easy chair and several suitcases were already line neatly against the wall.

"Is Jenna home?" Lila asked.

"Jenna?" Prentiss asked, looking up.

"I share the house," Meghan said. She moved the novel over to the armrest of the chair before sitting herself down. Answering Lila's question, she said, "She's out. That make it easier for you?"

"Maybe." Prentiss sat on the couch opposite her. "You know why we're here?"

Meghan nodded. "You're here to ask me about Rob."

Prentiss nodded. "That's right. But… before we do that, why don't we get to know each other." She smiled. "My name is Emily Prentiss." By leaving out the special agent part of it, she was making herself seem more approachable to the victim. "And," she directed her gaze to Reid, "Spencer Reid."

"Meghan Seymour," Meghan said, "but… Lila already told you that, didn't she?"

"She did," Prentiss confirmed, with a glance at said actress.

Lila was standing to the side, back almost against the wall. She was watching them with folded arms.

Prentiss looked back at Meghan.

Already, the young woman had turned her gaze down her knees. She clasped her hands tightly, kneading her fingers together.

"How do you want to do this?" Prentiss asked gently, seeking to recapture her attention.

Meghan's eyes flickered back to her face. "What?" she asked, so quietly that Prentiss almost didn't hear her.

"Would you rather I talked to you alone?" Emily pressed. She glanced at Reid briefly. "If you're more comfortable, we could talk one on one."

Meghan's uncertainty made itself known when she looked hesitantly to Lila.

Lila nodded encouragingly.

Meghan took a deep breath and looked back at Emily.

"Okay," she said. "I'll talk."

* * *

 **Note:** I would like to thank everyone who has taken the time to read and review this fic so far. Taking the time out of your day to do so really does mean a lot to me.


	6. These Feelings Of Ours

**Note:** *creeps out of hiding* Um... has it really been that long since I updated? *blinks* Whoops! I am so sorry for the delay.

Using some gentler line breaks for this chapter when POV changes happen between Lila and Spencer because I feel that it wouldn't disrupt the flow as much as a huge freakin' line across the whole page might.

* * *

Lila took Spencer's arm quietly and led him away from the scene.

"Where are we going?" he asked her. He lowered his voice to a whisper so as not to disturb Emily.

Unbidden, he found his mind traveling to thoughts of Elle. Her specialty before becoming a member of the BAU had been sex crimes. Would she have been handling this with him had she not left?

He was almost immediately guilty for thinking of it.

He missed Elle, yes. She had been his teammate. His friend. And when she had decided to leave so… abruptly… He understood now-knew she had to do what she had to do to keep herself emotionally healthy, to _heal,_ but it had still hurt.

But he trusted Emily too. She knew what she was doing.

"There's a deck out back," Lila answered. "We'll wait there."

She guided him past the kitchen to a pair of sliding glass doors. Through them, Spencer could see the deck and… he could just barely make out a swimming pool beyond it.

Lila pressed her hand against the glass pane of the door, sliding it open, and stepped over the threshold. She looked back, making sure Reid was going to follow her.

When he stepped closer, she gently took his elbow, leading him out behind her.

Lila released his elbow and walked to the edge of the deck, leaning over the rail.

At some point, he noticed, she had taken her shoes off and now she was in bare feet.

Spencer came up beside her.

"There's a pool." Lila smirked. The smirk didn't quite reach her eyes, but there was genuine mirth in her voice. Spencer recognised it for what it was: an attempt to keep things light by bringing up the past.

"You're not thinking of kissing me in this one, are you?" Spencer asked, and the words were out before he fully comprehended their meaning. He meant it to be a joke, but his voice cracked in the middle.

His face warmed with a blush- why had he thought to say _that_ \- but Lila gave a light laugh so maybe she didn't think it was all that… off.

A light breeze fiddled with her hair, blowing a strand across her face. Lila brushed it aside and tucked her hands in the pockets of her jeans.

She shook her head. The full-blown smirk had faded to a small smile, which teased the corner of her lips.

Lila pivoted around to face him, but, other than the laugh, she remained mute on the matter.

Then, her smile was gone as suddenly as it had appeared and the atmosphere which had sprung up between them faded.

/

Lila sighed, pulling her hands from her pockets and clutching the deck's railing.

"Lila?" Spencer moved behind her. She felt the light pressure of his hand on her shoulder. "Can I ask you a question?"

Lila answered immediately. "Of course."

"Why… why did you leave your show? _Emotional Cages?"_

Something unpleasant knotted in her stomach and she faced away from him, leaning over the railing. It would be easier on her if she didn't have to make eye contact.

The pool's water glittered as the sun's rays caught its surface. It was soothing, she found.

"It wasn't…" she started. Then found a way to backtrack, rephrase it. "It's like… the way they look at you. It's like you're not a person." She frowned. "They want you to look pretty and smile for the camera. It's all about your body. And I…" Lila swallowed tightly. When she was starting out, it had seemed like a good enough deal. It got her into the business, didn't it? She was an actress, a _star._ It was where she wanted to be. What she'd always wanted to be. So what if she had to strut about in that… that thing like a porn star. She could endure the appraising stares, the comments about her looks. It was only temporary. That's what she told herself. But it was a lie. A lie and she'd fallen for it, hook, line and sinker.

"I wasn't comfortable with that anymore. I just… I want _more_ than that. I wanted to be myself. I wanted to be… seen for who I am, not for what I can give somebody." She fingered a strand of hair.

"You _are_ more than that, Lila," Reid said earnestly. He sounded surprisingly passionate. Lila glanced up at him. In her own mind, it had sounded incredibly silly. She'd almost expected the routine 'it's all in your head, dear.' "And, for what it's worth, I'm… I'm glad you've left. If they made you feel that way, they never deserved to have you."

She hadn't deserved to be objectified in that matter. She was worth so much more than that. He'd realized that even when he first met her.

Lila smiled gratefully. "Thanks." She tossed her head, trying to lighten her own mood. "Now it's your turn. I ask you a question."

"I wasn't aware this was a game of twenty questions."

Lila grinned. "So the good doctor has a sense of humor," she said. "I thought the last one was your only one."

"H-hey!" Reid tried his hardest to be offended, but her grin was infectious. It was hard not to be pulled in by her attitude.

"So," Lila raised her head and leaned more casually against the deck's railing. "Emily Prentiss. She wasn't on your team the last time you were here."

"No, she wasn't," Reid agreed and his smile faded. He felt a lump rise in his throat. Painful memories - the never ending chorus of _what ifs?-_ of Elle thrust themselves forward.

He shut his eyes, knowing it would do nothing to stop the onslaught, but unable to help himself regardless..

"She wasn't," he acknowledged. "It was Elle Greenaway." He swallowed thickly, resting his palms gently against the railing. "You remember her?" he asked hesitantly.

Lila moved closer to him. "Yes."

The tip of her fingers hesitantly brushed against his skin. The feeling of her touch ghosted up his arm and Reid turned his head.

"What happened?" she asked quietly.

"She was… she was shot. By an… by an unsub we were looking for." His mouth felt dry and he ran his tongue over his lips, unconsciously ducking his head. "And I… I tried to help her. But it..." He had to run his tongue over his lips again. His mouth felt dry. "I wasn't enough." The guilt he'd been harboring for so long was coming to a head. He'd known she was suffering. He'd seen it in her eyes every time he looked at her. He hadn't known how to reach out to her, afraid that she'd only spiral faster if he pushed her. Wasn't that how things always went with him? He'd tried.

Looking her in the eyes suddenly felt like the hardest thing in the world to him. How would she feel knowing he couldn't help his own teammate?

"You said 'I wasn't enough,'" she said softly. "You blame yourself."

At Reid's glance, she gave a wry smile. "Hey, maybe I can be a profiler too."

Reid smiled slightly at that. She counted it as a victory.

"Maybe you could be," he told her.

/

To his surprise, he felt her press herself gently against his side, leaning into him. Her arm looped around his, hand traveling down until she discovered his own. Their fingers intertwined and he squeezed her hand, taking comfort from the contact.

"You tried. You tried to be her friend," she said quietly. "Isn't that enough?"

Reid swallowed around the lump in his throat. "I don't think it is," he admitted. If it was, why would she have left?

Lila's hand stayed joined with his, but she pulled away to face him. Her thumb started rubbing delicately over the back of his hand. "What happened?" she asked him. "Tell me. Honestly. If this… if it hurts you so badly, maybe you should get it out."

"I knew she was hurting," he confessed. He closed his eyes, feeling shame overwhelm him. "It was like she had changed overnight." He passed a hand over his eyes. He felt suddenly sick to his stomach.

The Elle That Had-Been was sharp-witted, with a biting sense of humor and a rigid sense of right and wrong. The Elle That Is was… bitter.

She'd changed. It was right in front of their face and yet none of them had done anything.

And when he finally did something… well, the moment had come too late.

He'd lost her.

Lila extricated her hand from his grasp.

The loss of contact stung and he wondered if this final straw had done it. Was she disgusted now that she knew part of the whole truth?

But then he felt her arms around him again and she was pulling him in for a hug.

Stunned, Reid let her. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders and pulled her close.

"It wasn't your fault, Spencer," she murmured.

And so-on the shoulder of his almost-girlfriend- Spencer Reid finally let himself cry.

* * *

"What do you want to know?" Meghan asked. She had drawn her legs up to her chest.

"Why don't you start with what kind of relationship you had with… Merton?" Prentiss suggested.

Meghan scoffed and refused to look Prentiss in the eyes. "If you can even call it that." She looked away, wiping a hand under her nose.

Prentiss didn't miss the moisture under her eyes. "Would you feel better if I got you a tissue?" she offered. Already, she was halfway out of her seat.

Meghan shook her head quickly, rubbing her hands over her face. "No," she said. "No, I don't want one. I'm fine."

Wordlessly, and somewhat unconvinced, Prentiss leaned back. She didn't press the matter of the tissue. It wasn't that big of a deal and if Meghan wanted one, she would ask.

But Meghan wasn't fine. Prentiss didn't even need profiling to know that.

The young woman wiped at her eyes. She hadn't been wearing makeup, so no tell-tale black streaks marred her cheeks.

"Tell me what happened," she prodded gently.

"I guess... " Meghan hesitated, "I guess looking back on it, Rob… he was always interested in me. He was always paying attention to me. Asking me if there was something I needed. Telling me I looked pretty. It was… it was flattering for a while, I suppose, but eventually, it was…" She looked pleadingly at Emily. "I was with Ben! I wasn't comfortable with that kind of attention. Not from someone else."

Prentiss leaned forward. "Did you tell him that?"

Meghan nodded glumly. "I thought it worked. He seemed to back off. But…"

"But you think maybe he was just biding his time?"

Meghan chewed on her lip, looking stricken, before she finally nodded again. "Maybe," she whispered.

* * *

 **Note:** A lot of Elle feels I wanted to get out in this chapter. Say what you want about Prentiss being better, but I miss her and I wanted to give Reid a little bit more time to grieve her departure.

And sometimes a good hugs says more than any words ever could. Sometimes that's what someone needs. Someone to hold them and let them cry.

I'm not hinting at any past romantic feelings between the two of them (Elle and Reid) when he thinks about losing her. I never saw them in that light. I always thought they were really good friends. Nothing more. (And if I were going to ship any team members, besides M/G, it would likely be Reid/JJ.)

Thank you for reading!


	7. Night Terrors

**Note:** It's been a while. Sorry about that. I needed to take some time off to concentrate on personal life and other stories I had in the works.

I would like to thank everyone who has taken the time to leave their thoughts, favorite or add this to their story alerts. Credit to the idea for this chapter goes to ahowell1993, who suggested nightmares and tea.

* * *

Emily bit into a fish stick, chewing slowly.

In her left hand, she held several sheets of lined paper she'd written on.

"I'm sorry I don't have more to offer you," Lila apologized. She carried two glasses of water and handed one to Spencer, one to Emily. "You'd think I'd have more than fish sticks on hand." She gave a short, dry laugh. "Guess not."

"You might be surprised," Reid said, "but we've had worse. This actually isn't bad."

Lila laughed suddenly and sharply. At Prentiss' quick look of surprise, she dropped down into the chair behind her and buried her face in her hands. "I'm sorry," she gasped, struggling to recompose herself. "I guess… I guess it's just the nerves."

"No one's going to think any less of you," Prentiss said gently. "There's no… normal that dictates how anyone is going to react to something like this. You're understandably shaken."

"I know. I know. It's just…" She wiped the corner of her eyes. "I'm so sorry."  
"No. Lila, no." Reid had moved closer. He took her hand in one of his, cradling it gently. "You don't have anything to apologize for. We're… we're here for you."  
Her lips trembled only a little, but she managed a weak smile. "Thanks, Spencer."

He smiled back, squeezing her hand only a little in response.

* * *

Spencer snapped awake with a gasp. A lingering feeling of terror hung over him like a cloud and a thin sheen of sweat had broken out across his body.

He sat up quickly, kicking the constricting covers. He was in a bed. In a bed and not in a shack and that was relieving. But it wasn't his bed and it wasn't his room and that was concerning.

Spencer clambered out of bed, wrapping his arms protectively around himself.

A smell drifted by- the offensive odor of smoke and fish- but when he whipped around to find the source, it disappeared as if it had never been there in the first place.

But it had been there. It had. He wasn't… he wasn't going crazy.

He realized he was trembling, though there was no chill present in the air. He took an uncertain step back.

A menacing whisper sounded just beneath his ear and he pulled away from the phantom of Tobias Hankel before he realized it was just that- a phantom.

The man was dead, killed by his own hand. He couldn't hurt him.

Yet, even in the waking world it seemed could the dead haunt the living.

Spencer closed his eyes, reciting the facts of his situation.

He was no longer in Washington D.C. He was just outside Los Angeles. He and Prentiss were here because Lila Archer had called.

And Hankel was here.

No. Reid stopped short. No, that wasn't right.

He could still hear the rapport of the gun, see the blood drying on the dead man's shirt.

Hankel was dead.

Reid pushed open the door and stepped out into the hall.

Too many ghosts-real and imagined- seemed to follow him.

Vaguely, he knew the way to the balcony Lila had showed him and on instinct he headed there.

The atmosphere around him had become stifling. It seemed as though the walls closed in on him.

He needed the fresh air. He needed to step outdoors. He needed it as though his life depended on it.

The door was only at the end of the hall, but the steps to reach it seemed to take forever.

Before he realized it, he had broken into a light jog.

He fumbled with the latch, was surprised to find that it was already unlocked, and slid the door open.

He stumbled through, relishing the fresh air the minute it touched his lungs.

And then he realized he wasn't the only one seeking refuge in the outdoors.

"Spencer?"

Lila whipped around. She was still in her day clothes, but her hair was mussed. She was clearly startled to see him.

"Lila, I…" Reid stumbled, wondering what on earth he could tell her to explain why he on her balcony in the middle of the night.

 _The truth_ did not occur to him because the thought of discussing Hankel left a tightness in his chest.

Then he noticed the dark circles under Lila's eyes, the haunted expression that twisted her features…

"Nightmares?" he guessed.

"That… profiling there?" She tried to smile. She didn't pull it off.

"More like it takes one to know one."

"Oh." She looked away and rubbed her arm. "I… the profiler comment was uncalled for."

"You…" He swallowed. "You made an educated guess. It's alright."

Lila glanced around her. She shivered and wrapped her arms tighter around herself. "Maybe we should go inside," she suggested. "It's getting cold. We'll go downstairs. I can make tea and we'll… talk."

Only moments before, Reid had come out to seek the cold.

Now he agreed readily.

Lila eased the door shut behind them.

* * *

Lila set two mugs on the white marble counter. There was a teabag in each one.

A kettle boiled on the stove.

"Do you like peach tea?" Lila asked. "It's the only tea I keep on hand."

"I…" Spencer wrinkled his brow. "Actually, in truth, I've never had it."  
"Oh." Lila paused, hesitant. "Then do you…"

"Peach tea is fine. It's fine. I… I love trying new things."

Lila had turned on a light. The warm yellow glow was reassuring and yet… Spencer still did not quite feel at ease.

A prickle crawled up his back, like spider's legs. He shifted his shoulders, resisted the irrational urge to check for a hulking figure over his shoulder, and wonder if maybe he had overdone it.

But Lila had moved to the stove, called by the kettle's sudden whistle. She switched off the heat and took the kettle off the stove.

"I know it sounds weird, but… my grandmother always kept peach tea in her house. Whenever I had a nightmare when I was staying with her, she'd make a cup for both of us, take me outside and she'd tell me about the stars." Lila's voice had turned somewhat wistful. "That's what she always called me. Her star."

"It's not weird. It's actually quite touching really. You…" he ran his tongue over his lips, "you sound like you really love her."

"I did," Lila said. She dipped her head so that her hair fell across her face like a curtain. "She… died. A year before… a year before I met you actually."

"Oh." That revelation stopped him short. He had never met his own grandmother. The closest thing he could imagine was… was his own mother dying. "I'm so sorry, Lila."

Lila poured the hot water into each cup. She dipped the tea bags several times, then left them to steep.

The lighting was minimal, but he was sure he saw the beginnings of tears.

"It's alright." Lila wiped under her eye with her thumb. "Do you take anything in your tea?"

'"Um," he was flustered by the sudden subject change. "Sugar. I take sugar."

Lila smiled. She stooped behind the counter, setting a ceramic sugar jar on the counter. Adding two scoops, she asked, "Milk?"

Spencer shook his head. "No milk," he said.

Lila finished, lifting both mugs gingerly by the handles. She set Reid's mug before and sat quietly across from him.

The fragrance was… pleasant, Reid decided.

She dipped her head down, closing her eyes and breathing deeply. She looked exhausted.

"You said..." Reid started. He stopped short, hesitating. Then, he gathered his courage and pushed forward. "You said you were dreaming. Do you want to talk about them?"

"No." Lila gave a short, mirthless little laugh. "I want to forget them." She buried her face in her hands, drawing a long breath. "But we're here to talk about them."

Reid waited.

"I keep… I keep seeing Michael. And I know… it's selfish to be so concerned with this when Meghan…" Here, she broke off and looked away, her bottom lip trembling. "I remember Mags and…" Now she did cry openly, voice hitching on a sob.

Instinctively, he moved to her side of the table, opening his arms to her.

She accepted his offer, leaning against him and he held her close. Her shoulders shook with her sobs.

"You have your own trauma to deal with," he said softly. One of his hands was entwined in her hair."It's not… selfish for you to still be… struggling with it."

"I keep thinking of Mags and I… _why?"_ There was a note of anguish in her broken tone and she clung to him. " _Why?!"_

There was no answer he could possibly give her. Nothing that would mitigate the pain that Mags' betrayal or Michael's murder had caused.

For once, he had no answer.

 _Another sin._

His own breath hitched and he closed his eyes.

Even from behind his shut eyelids, he could see them. Glittering eyes. Hard eyes. Eyes that pierced to the deepest fibre of your soul and dragged forth that which you buried deep, seeking to hide it forever from the world.

Eyes that killed you for it.

He wasn't sure for how long he fought his personal demons, before Lila stirred, sensing the change.

"Spencer?" she whispered.

"I'm okay," he rasped.

"No, you're not." She pulled away from him. Her eyes were puffy and red, but she gripped his shoulder tightly, concern written across her features. "You… you had a nightmare too. Oh my…" Suddenly, she looked horrified, her hand flying to cover her mouth. "Of course, you… Your cases!" She swallowed thickly. "And I… I just heaped everything on you!"

"You didn't." Even to his own ears, his voice sounded thick, like his words were being filtered through a barrel maple syrup. "It's what we agreed. We were both going to talk about… nightmares." For a moment, his voice trailed off.

Lila placed her smaller hand over his. She didn't say anything. She didn't push him.

Reid appreciated that. It gave him time to collect his thoughts.

He withdrew his hand and rubbed his face vigorously, as if by doing so he could wash away the stains Hankel's voice had left.

But it couldn't. And believing he could do so was not only illogical, it was irrational.

He sucked in another breath and replaced his hand on the table.

"It was… it was a case," he said. "There was a man. He was… killing people he thought had sinned." His hands had started shaking. He pulled them off the table and tried rubbing them together in his lap. "We went- JJ and I," he clarified quickly, "we went to interview someone… someone who we _thought_ was a witness." A chill was climbing its way up his spine.

Lila suddenly reached out and took his hand, pressing it in both of hers.

Reid clenched his other hand in an effort to the quell the tremors. It didn't work.

"He… wasn't."

* * *

 **Note:** This seemed as good a place as any to leave it. (Don't worry. We'll be hearing Spencer's full story.) Please review!


	8. Hold My Hand

**Note:** This chapter is really short and I apologize for that, but I didn't want to keep it going for longer than it had to. I wanted it to be more short and heartfelt.

* * *

Reid lowered his head. He could still remember the moment of revelation. The computer modules stacked up against the wall. Hankel himself, a demon of the night rather than the avenging angel he saw himself as.

"He ran. We… we didn't wait for backup. All I…" he swallowed, remembering how it had been _his_ idea, _his_ fault, "all I could think of was that if he got away, people would just keep dying. And we- we had an opportunity to stop him right there."

The words practically poured from his mouth. The urge to justify his reasoning flooded him. He _needed_ her to understand him, why he had made the mistake that he had.

Lila sat, patient and sympathetic. Her eyes never left his face and she didn't try to make any meaningless comment that would sound good in the moment, but, ultimately, wouldn't fix anything.

He appreciated that.

"But we… we split up. It was my idea." He had to work past the lump in his throat in order to keep talking. "JJ took the barn. I followed him into the cornfield."

This was the part that haunted him. Almost as much as his ordeal in the shack Hankel held him in.

When he wasn't dreaming about burning fish guts, the bitter cold and a voice that bellowed in his ears, he would hear her.

JJ.

He would hear her scream for him. She would scream and scream and her cries would rise far above the din of the dogs as they tore her to pieces.

Sometimes he would find himself frozen in place, unable to go to her aid no matter how desperately he wanted to.

And at other times, he would find himself bound to that chair, that damned chair, doomed to do nothing but thrash and struggle and scream along with her.

What did it matter? The end result was the same.

JJ died.

He realized that somewhere along the retelling he had started crying.

Embarrassed, Reid reached up hastily to wipe them away.

Lila had gotten up. He saw her moving away and he thought for an instant that she too had seen him for how pathetic he really was. That she was sick of it.

But then she was back, holding something out to him.

It took him a moment to realize it was a box of tissues.

He took one gratefully, instantly ashamed of his previous thoughts. Of course, Lila wouldn't have thought that.

She was… she was Lila.

"Lila," he said, wondering why on earth he was blurting this out. "It means 'lilac' in Persian."

Her lips quirked upwards. "Was that a compliment, Dr. Reid?"

Reid blushed. He hadn't… he hadn't wanted to dwell on JJ's screams anymore. "It suits you."

"So it was a compliment."

She paused and Reid took the time to dab at his eyes with the tissue. He crumbled it into a tight ball in his hand.

"Thank you," he said, realizing he hadn't when she first brought them to him.

"I'd forgotten I had them," she said honestly. Another pause followed the first. She broke it carefully. "Are you… ready to keep talking?" she asked quietly. She took his hand and gave it a comforting squeeze. "I don't think you finished."

"I…" Reid considered it. He wanted to tell her. He did. It was sitting like the metaphorical weight on his chest. But the retelling cut too deep. The wounds were still too fresh. And JJ's screams still echoed in his mind.

He shut his eyes to block them out, but of course it didn't work.

"I can't. Not tonight." He looked at her imploringly, pleading with her silently to understand. "I just… I need a little more time. But I will. Talk about it."

It came out jumbled together and awkward.

Lila searched his eyes for a moment, before looking away.

Reid knew his reluctance to confide in her had hurt her, and he felt the heat flood his cheeks.

"Lila," he whispered. He didn't know what he expected.

She surprised him by pulling him into a hug. "Whatever you went through," she said, "you're strong to make it through to the other side."

* * *

 **Note:** I would imagine that after all this time, Hankel would still be really hard for him to talk about. It's one thing with the team, who saw it happen, but it might be harder with Lila, despite the fact that he trusts her. I don't see Spencer as the kind of person who gives up his past easily.

And I feel like his inability to save JJ- that would be something that would haunt him as well in my opinion. And it might be easier for him to start by addressing that, then the more personal ordeal that occurred in the shack.

That's just my take.

This isn't the last that Hankel will be discussed, however.


	9. Promises Made

Lila pulled a designer denim jacket on over a yellow scoop neck blouse. Deliberately ripped jeans and prada sneakers completed her ensemble.

She flipped her blonde hair over her shoulder, running her fingers through the long strands a little self-consciously.

"It looks nice." Spencer's voice caught her somewhat off guard and she jumped.

"Sorry." Spencer grimaced. "I, uh… I wasn't trying to startle you."

"No, it's fine." Lila couldn't help but notice his absolutely adorable case of bedhead. She playfully. "It's a good look for you."  
"What?" Spencer scrunched his brow in confusion.

"Your hair, genius." Emily came from behind him, running her hand through his hair. In her other hand, she held a mug of coffee.

Spencer frowned and ran a hand over his hair.

"I need to head back," she said, somewhat regretfully. She wanted to stay here with them and continue catching up, but work didn't go away just because a few friends were over.

A minor celebrity status didn't entitle her to any special privileges either. Sure, she could choose to be a diva. Maybe she could get away with it. Part of her was tempted, certain that if she put her foot down, she could get away with a day off.

But in the end, it wouldn't be worth the trouble.

"'Do you want us with you?" Spencer asked her gently. He reached his hand out, catching her elbow.

Lila gave him an apologetic look. "I appreciate the offer," she said, "but I don't know if…" She chewed her lip. "I don't know if you'd be allowed on set. The last time… the last time was different. I'm sorry."

She grabbed her keys off the rack.

"I only have a few scenes to shoot today. We're still looking for someone… for someone to take Meghan's place."

She sighed, running a hand through her hair.

"I guess…" She chewed her lip and shot a glance towards them both. "I'll call you if anything happens, but I guess I'll just… see you tonight."

* * *

"Nothing happened," Lila announced flatly. A part of her was… relieved, but there was also this part of her that had hoped Robert Merton would try something. That way, at least, maybe they would have proof of harassment.

He could be prosecuted.

Meghan's nightmare would be over.

But she knew in her heart that it wasn't that simple.

Merton was powerful. Merton was careful.

She was going to have to get more than that.

"That's a good thing," Emily told her, walking in from the kitchen. "We'll find a way to nail him _without_ you becoming a victim yourself."

Lila shrugged out of her jacket and hung it up by the door. She almost wondered where that final comment had come from. She had never once mentioned any sort of intention to try and catch him… like that.

But then she was talking to a profiler.

It was probably written all across her face.

That brought a disturbing new thought to the forefront of her brain. _Did_ she have any intention of trying to lure him in as bait?

It wasn't like she hadn't faced harassment before- Hollywood was rife with perverts- but it was never anything beyond a comment or a word.

Not okay- never okay- but something she thought she could live with.

At the time, anyways.

"I thought you people did sting operations all the time." She was being petulant and she knew it.

"That's different. Someone who participates in a sting operation is trained. They usually have a recording device planted on them somewhere."

Lila sighed, making her way deeper into the house.

"What's that smell? Are you cooking? I'm famished."

She was.

The smell that wafted from the kitchen made her stomach rumble.

She hadn't eaten nearly all day and she was feeling hollow on the inside.

"Spaghetti and meatballs. Would you believe Reid's memorized what he claims to be the best recipe for meatballs ever?"

Lila grinned. "Yes."  
Emily returned the smile. "Thought so."

"Lila?"

Spencer was standing by the kitchen door, wiping his hands off on a dish rag.

The tone of his voice- the look in his eyes- it was all so _vulnerable_ that Lila realized he had been worried- really worried. And for her.

Guilt wormed its way into her chest and she offered him a tentative little smile.

"Hey, Spencer."

"You're not really thinking of putting yourself in Merton's line of fire, are you?" Considering how soft his voice had been when he spoke her name only moments earlier, this new vehemence in his tone shocked her. "Because that would be stupid, Lila. And I'm… I won't let you do it."

Lila swallowed thickly. "I wouldn't be that stupid, Spencer."

The look Spencer gave her said he didn't quite believe her. She wondered why that bothered her so much.

"I promise, Spencer," she said firmly. She marched forward, like she wanted to grasp his shoulders, let that convince him of how sincere she was, but at the last second, she stopped.

She couldn't.

Why couldn't she?  
She swallowed again.  
"I promise."

* * *

"Is there… anything you want to talk about?" Lila pressed quietly.

"Hmmm?" Spencer blinked. She'd pulled him out of his thoughts.

"I mean… after last night. We didn't really finish."

"Oh. That."

"Yeah."

Spencer shifted, stretching his long legs out in front of him. He stared at the wall, eyes glazed over with memory.

"Spencer?" she tried again. She leaned forward, concern lacing her tone.

Emily had excused herself to wash up in the bathroom. The shower was still going.

Lila saw this as the best opportunity to try to talk to him.

Except he wasn't opening up.

Lila crossed her legs, settling her hands on her knees.

"I just… you know what I said still stands, right?" she asked. She didn't want to see him with this- whatever this was- weighing on his mind. "You're strong. You know that. Right?"  
That got a reaction out of him.

Spencer snorted and looked away, something like bitterness in his tone when he spoke. "You might not think that if you really knew."

Lila latched onto that reaction like a dog latching on to a bone. "So tell me," she urged. "Let me be the judge of that. Spencer, please!"  
"Well, that's out of the way now. Maybe we could-"

Emily stopped dead, eyes shifting between Lila and Spencer.

Her dark hair was wet and tangled still and she was in the process of combing it out.

"I'm sorry," she said, backing up a step as if she intended to back out of the room and let them have their privacy. "Did I interrupt something?"

"No," Spencer said quickly, with a sideways glance at Lila. "You're fine."

Lila sat back, chewing her lip and watching Spencer closely.

They'd have to talk later.

When he was ready, she told herself. When he was ready.

But she couldn't stop herself from worrying.


	10. Escalations

**Note:** I'd like to thank everyone who's been sticking with me through this story. Your words of kindness and support have meant the world to me and I've fallen behind in expressing my gratitude to you all. Thank you!

* * *

"Spencer!"

Lila appeared in the living room doorway, hands clutching the frames as if to support herself.

Spencer's head snapped up, taking in her appearance immediately. Her cheeks were bloodless, eyes wide and frantic. Her breath was coming in short gasps, hands trembling.

And he knew: something was _wrong._

He was on his feet at once and by her side, hands reaching out to grip her arms, to steady her.

"Lila? What is it?"

"Meghan's dead."

* * *

Soon after her announcement, Lila's knees had given out and Spencer had only just managed to catch her, gently lowering them both to the ground.

Lila clung to him, weeping silently.

"I don't understand," she said. "We were… I only just saw here. How did this happen?"

"It's okay. It's okay." Spencer rubbed her back, slowly.

It was a lie.

It wasn't okay.

Someone was dead.

And what struck Spencer more than anything was how _preventable_ it was.

They should have done more.

They had come with the promise to help Meghan.

They had failed.

"What happened?" he asked, throat feeling closed.

Lila shook her head. A choked sob was his only answer.

It broke his heart. She was trying to be like them, trying to be strong, but he didn't want her to think like that.

He didn't want her to push her emotions down, to hide her tears, out of some misguided belief that they made her weak.

It was the opposite.

Her tears for Meghan were what made her human. And Meghan, whoever she was and whatever she was like, she deserved to have tears shed for her, to be mourned.

"So I was thinking that if…" Prentiss stopped when she took in the scene before her. One look at her face and Spencer knew that she knew something was wrong. "Lila…" She stopped herself, eyes flashing to Spencer. "Reid, what's going on?"

Spencer's tongue felt dry, cleaving to the roof of his mouth. With effort, he unstuck it. "Emily..." he licked his lips, wishing that there was a way he didn't have to say this. Especially with Lila right here in his arms.

"Emily, Meghan is dead."

Prentiss' face drained of color, mouth slowly dropping open. "Meghan's… That's horrible." She hurried forward, dropping to her knees beside Lila and Spencer. She reached out, pressing her hand against the small of Lila's back.

"When?" she asked, looking to Spencer. "When did this happen?"

"I don't know." Lila clutched at Spencer's shirt a little tighter. "I don't know. I just… Jenna called me a few minutes ago. She found her and she just…" She pushed herself away from Spencer. Her eyes were red rimmed and there were tear tracks running down her cheeks, but her eyes were blazing.

"It was Merton. It had to have been. I know it was."

Prentiss exchanged a look with Spencer. "If he killed her already, then he escalated quickly."

"Escalated? Already?" Lila looked between them.

Spencer could see the wheels of her mind turning and he knew she was wondering what they hadn't told her.

He swallowed thickly.

"Typically..." Spencer closed his eyes and remembered that the victim they were talking about was a young woman, a friend of someone very, very dear to him. "Typically, when someone is being… stalked, the stalker fantasizes about having a… relationship with the victim. They love them in their own twisted sense and they imagine that the object of their obsession returns that love. Or that they will. Since their end goal is a relationship with that person, they usually aren't looking to kill them. That's not to say that they _won't,_ it just… usually takes a lot longer to devolve to that point."

Inwardly, he cringed at how impersonal he sounded. It was a way of shielding himself against the horrors that he faced nearly every day, but, here, with Lila, it was selfish.

Impersonal wasn't what she needed.

"Lila," Prentiss pressed gently, "do you know exactly how long this has been going on?"

Lila shook her head. "No, she… she only came to me now because he had scared her. Really scared her."

The look Prentiss gave Spencer was grave. "So maybe this has been going on a lot longer than we originally thought."

They both fall silent and Spencer knew that they were thinking the same thing.

Their job was to protect. They had come here to protect.

And within a day of speaking to their victim, she was dead.

* * *

"I know what you're thinking, Reid. Believe me, I'm thinking it too. But we were here unofficially. What we could do was limited."

Prentiss put her hand on Spencer's shoulder.

Lila had asked for time alone before disappearing up into her bedroom.

Spencer hadn't wanted to leave her alone, afraid that _alone_ might do to her what it had to him in his grief and pain, but had opted to respect her wishes. She deserved the time and privacy to grieve for now.

"That shouldn't have mattered though. We made a promise to Meghan. We made a promise to _Lila_ and look where we got them!"

"Reid!" Emily snapped, grasping both his shoulders firmly. "We can try. We can try our damned hardest, and we can succeed or we can fail, but the one thing you can _not_ do is blame yourself. You are not the one at fault for someone else's misdeeds."

 _Misdeeds._

What a lovely word for murder.

She pulled her hands away, dropping them to her sides.

"I know what it's like to feel that you're the one at fault," she said, lowering her voice. "But you'll only drive yourself mad doing that."

Her lips pressed into a thin line.  
"Merton's a powerful man. We had to take our time, Reid."

She reached out, giving Spencer a gentle clasp on the shoulder.

"I'll go make some tea. Maybe, when Lila comes down, it will make her feel better."

Spencer nodded numbly. "Okay."  
A car engine started out front.

Prentiss frowned. "What…?"  
Spencer paled. Oh no…

He was running to the door before Prentiss could finish getting the words out of her mouth.

Flinging it open, he burst out without bothering to close it behind him.

"Lila! _Lila!"_

Prentiss followed closely.

He stopped, expression stricken.

The car had already peeled out of the drive and was gone.

He was too late.

* * *

"What is she _thinking?"_

Spencer kicked at the porch, wincing when he made contact. Even through his shoe, it had hurt.

It only served to make him angrier.

"Doesn't she know how stupid this is? How _dangerous?"_

"Reid!" Emily grabbed him by the shoulders, stopping his outburst before it could escalate any further.

"Getting angry like this isn't going to help anyone. Not you and certainly not Lila."

Her steady eyes held him in place, piercing him like she could read his mind.

"She's going to Merton's place."

There was no other place she could go.

"We just need to get there before..." Emily fell silent, but Spencer didn't need her to continue.

He was already finishing the sentence in his head.

Before anything could happen to her.


	11. Worry

**Note:** This chapter is abysmally short, I know. Please forgive me. I've been trying to force myself to write longer chapters, but it's been twenty days since I last updated for you guys and I didn't want to keep you waiting any longer.

* * *

By the time Lila actually reached the man's house, her irrational fury and grief had cooled, leaving her with a simmering devastation and the need for a new plan of action.

She was certain that Merton had killed Meghan. She didn't know how and she didn't know when- only what Jenna had told her over the phone and that hadn't been much.

She parked her car parallel to the sidewalk and twisted the keys out of the ignition. She flexed her fingers around the steering wheel, heart racing.

She needed a moment to consider before she ran headlong into this.

Confronting Merton upfront about her death wasn't going to work. She needed to go about this differently.

Lila stepped out of the car, shutting the door with a slam behind her. Her heart was pounding in her chest and she swallowed past the nervousness that threatened to consume her.

The smell of the salt air wafted around her and the ocean breeze caressed her hair. It was deceptively peaceful.

The beach bungalow-with its thatched roof and floral curtains- currently serving as his place of residence belied suspicion, but Lila suspected there were at least a few security guards somewhere.

No matter. She tossed her hair back and slipped a pair of sunglasses over the bridge of her nose. She was Lila Archer- she was acting in his movie. And Lila doubted that the presence of pretty, young actresses here at his bungalow was at all unusual- though the thought made her stomach crawl.

Merton was scum, but that fact could prove useful in getting herself into his house.

She held her chin up high and her shoulders straight, striding up the path to the front door as though she had every right to be there.

She didn't think Merton would actually have her sent away- not unless she straight up and accused him to his face- and if she took the time to work up tears, which wouldn't be hard because she had to fight them back now, he might actually feel flattered that she had come to him.

The "why" wouldn't even occur to him.

Hopefully, not until it was too late.

* * *

Prentiss swiped her phone screen, ending the call and sliding her phone back into her pocket.

"I got Merton's summer address from Garcia," she said, resting a soothing hand on Spencer's shoulder. "It hasn't been that long. We can make it."

Spencer swallowed, brushing her hand aside. His throat and mouth were dry, tongue cleaving to the roof of his mouth. He knew what Prentiss was doing. He appreciated the intent. But he also knew that she knew as well as he did that it was pointless.

In their line of work, they knew better than to get cocky.

"We can make it in time" had become one of the most meaningless phrases.

How many times in his heart had he been convinced that they had connected the dots in time? That they could make it in time?

How many times had he been wrong?

But he couldn't be wrong- he _wouldn't_ be wrong. Not when Lila was the one at stake.

He was already out the door, Prentiss right behind him.


	12. Fake It To Make It

**Notes:** Not too long of a wait this time I hope.

* * *

His heart was in his mouth. Terror was crushing his chest like a vice.

Prentiss' knuckles were white around the steering wheel.

And he prayed- he prayed seriously for what might have been the third time in his life. The first had been when he realized that his mother's illness hadn't been something he could handle on his own.

He had agonized over the decision for months, prayed that he wouldn't have to do it. Prayed that he would find the time and the resources to continue caring for his mother on his own. Or that, miraculously, she would begin to recover, to get better. But he knew, even as he wished it, that that wouldn't happen.

And it didn't.

And then at the hands of Tobias Hankel. He knew what his death would do to his mother, to the members of his team, forced to watch him suffer and perhaps die, but his mother… It would have killed her.

And that had terrified him more than his own predicament.

And now Lila.

The prospect of losing her when he was only just now beginning to know her made the sickness churn in his stomach.

He closed his eyes, bony fingers gripping the door handle.

 _Please,_ he begged. _Please don't take her from me._

If they found her ( _when,_ he corrected himself, _when)_ alive and well, he supposed he would be angry. She had taken an enormous risk. Merton was dangerous if he had killed that woman. And, like Lila, he couldn't ignore the pulling at his gut that told him Merton was their man.

When he found her, he would be angry. He told himself that because it was easier.

But, for now, he was terrified.

* * *

Lila was unprepared for the wave of absolute disgust that hit her when she saw who had opened the door to meet her.

Merton was handsome- it was the reason why he had such an easy time winning over most of the ladies.

Lila's stomach did another somersault. She knew exactly how he found half his leading ladies. More often than not, they were more than willing to get involved with the director.

And why shouldn't he? He was a softer, more subdued, version of attractiveness than the average teen heartthrob, but there was a certain allure about him.

His silver-lined dark hair and the deep set, soul-piercing eyes certainly got him second glances and, even at his age, he had still managed to remain fit.

Even Lila herself had noticed it, though the thought made her sick to her stomach now.

"Miss Archer?" He raised an eyebrow, looking only slightly puzzled to see her. "Are you alright? I…" His Adam's apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed and readjusted the glasses that gave him his endearing bookish look. "I heard about Meghan. Is that why you're here?"

Her chest tightened for an instant. Did he…?

His smile was welcoming, tinged with a sadness that seemed sincere.

For a moment, Lila doubted her own convictions. Maybe he hadn't really…

But she steeled herself.

That was what she was here to find out, wasn't it?

"They called me this morning," she confessed. Her throat felt thick and she shut her eyes against the buildup of pressure behind her eyes.

"Lila?" he questioned.

She felt his hand on her shoulder and she tried to suppress a shudder.

Lila fluttered her eyes open and forced a smile that felt too watery and fake to be believed in any way.

"I'm okay," she said anyways. Then questioned why she would keep a charade in place. The whole point was to get him off his guard.

"No," he looked at her closely, "you're not." To Lila's relief, he removed his hand from her shoulder and stepped out of her way, using his arm to make a sweeping gesture inviting her into the house. "Why don't you come in? For old time's sake? You shouldn't be alone at a time like this. Why don't I make you a cup of tea?"

Lila bristled almost defensively. Old times… There had never been any old times. Not the way he was thinking. Not with him. They had never been more than professionally friendly.

But she forced herself to relax. To control herself.

"That sounds… good," she said slowly. And it did. If she didn't consider who she was going to be having tea with.

She stepped over the threshold, her skin prickling with unease.

She faltered, almost stopping. Her better judgement was weighing on her shoulders.

This was… no good. This was a bad idea.

Lila kept walking and she heard the gentle click of the door behind her.

That did give her pause, a knot tightening in her throat.

"Is anyone else here?" she asked softly.

"Some security. Why?" he asked, regarding her closely. "Does something concern you?"

"I just… if somebody killed Meghan, shouldn't you be a little more careful?"

They were entering the dining room and kitchen area now.

For a director, Merton seemed to enjoy a somewhat modest dwelling.

Merton hummed softly to himself as gallantly made a show of pulling out a chair for her.

"No, I don't see why I should," he finally answered. "Was there any threat made against the studio, against _me?"_ He shook his head. "As tragic as Miss Seymour's death was, I really doubt that it's the sign of a larger conspiracy against the crew and cast as a whole." He smiled at her disarmingly. "Why? Are _you_ worried, Lila? I didn't notice you coming here with any security personnel yourself."

"I…" Lila stammered, unsure of how to answer. Was he trying to trap her into admitting something?

Before she could think of an answer, Merton turned away. "Maeve!" he called.

An older woman walked into the kitchen, her hair done up in a tight bun. Her uniform suggested that she was a maid or a housekeeper of some sort.

"Robert," she said pleasantly. "Is there something I can do for you?"

Her eyes scanned Lila and crinkled in delight. "Hello, dear." She stepped forward to shake Lila's hand. "It's not often that Robert comes home with someone as pretty as you. I keep telling him he ought to settle down." She laughed in a way that could only be described as motherly. "But you look a little young, don't you dearie?"

"I…" Again, Lila found herself stammering as she withdrew her hand, folding them both in her lap and blushing furiously.

"Maeve," Merton murmured slowly, a hand on the older woman's shoulder, "Lila's only here as a friend. As you know, one of my actresses was murdered last night. She's here about that."

"Yes." The older woman clucked her tongue, shaking her head regretfully. "Such a shame. Lydia, was it? Such a nice girl."

"Meghan, actually."

Maeve sighed. "I can't help it if there are so many of them. Still- what a tragedy. Such a young life already cut short."

Lila swallowed thickly, her fingernails digging into her thighs.

"Now was there something you wanted?"

"Tea, actually."

"Of course."

She turned away and Lila heard the clanging of pots and then running water.

Merton sighed, pulling out a chair and sitting across from her. "Quite a character, isn't she?" He smiled.

Lila fought the urge to recoil away from him, knowing it would only draw suspicion. "She seems sweet," she said, feeling defensive.

"I wasn't suggesting anything to the contrary."

She noticed he was tracing invisible patterns on the tabletop.

"Now- about Meghan." His countenance took on a solemn air that Lila couldn't quite decide if it was forced or not. "You heard about her too?"

Lila's heart clenched in her chest and she nodded. "Yes. I told you."

"So…" He leaned forward, folding his hands in an attempt to appear nonchalant, but Lila noticed the tautness in his muscles and she couldn't help but wonder where this was going to lead.

Not for the first time, her better judgement prickled the back of her mind, urging her to leave.

 _Just calm down,_ she told herself. He wasn't acting unstable. And he wouldn't hurt her with Maeve in the room. Would he? She couldn't imagine it.

But then… she hadn't imagined Mags was capable of what she had done either.

Lila forced herself to settle back, heart racing.

"Have you heard anything? About what the police might have found?"

"I…" Lila tried to think around the impending panic. Why was she feeling like this? Like every instinct in her body was screaming _danger,_ telling her to run, to get the hell out of there and now.

 _Because she had walked into the house of someone she suspected was a killer, that's why._

Maeve or not, that didn't change the position she was in.

But now- the more rational side of her brain put it all together- now was her chance to fake it, to attempt a bluff.

"They wouldn't have told me anything," she said carefully. "I'm… I wouldn't be involved in the investigation. I'm not a witness or anything."

Her mouth felt dry and she ran her tongue over her lips, praying that she sounded convincing.

But, hell, she was an actress.

Time for a little acting.

"Meghan told me she was afraid of something like this happening. She had a security camera installed by her front door. Once the police find that, I'm sure they'll know who killed her."

She didn't miss the way Merton's eyes darkened.

"Is that so?"


	13. Danger

**Note:** My apologies for the wait, everyone. I hope that you'll find this chapter well worth it, and I would also like to thank all of you who have taken the time to leave your thoughts behind. It's always appreciated.

This chapter receives a **warning** for violence and language.

* * *

Lila pretended not to see it.

She nodded. "That's what she said. I thought she was being paranoid." She decided to lay on the ditzy Hollywood performer act on a little , it wouldn't be too hard. After all, wasn't that how the general public viewed people like her?

She leaned closer and forced a small, pained laugh. "You know how she was." It came out more strangled than she had hoped. "I mean… somebody watching her? Crazy, right?"

A burning sensation pulsed behind her eyes and she blinked rapidly, trying to dispel the sudden gathering of tears.

She didn't want to cry in front of him. The very idea of allowing him to see her that vulnerable made her skin crawl.

Maeve returned, setting the steaming mug of tea before it.

Lila accepted it with something resembling gratitude, lifting it to her lips. It was hot- hotter than she had expected- and she nearly choked when the water scalded her tongue. She forced herself to swallow and winced, bringing a hand to her throat.

Merton regarded her. "I thought you would've known it was hot."

This irked her. "I wasn't thinking." She was tearing up, but she didn't want to ask him for anything.

He seemed to realize this. "Water?" he asked simply.

She considered- her pride told her not to accept it- but her scalded tongue pleaded for her to choose otherwise. "Ice water. Please."

The "please" tasted sour on her tongue.

To her surprise, he rose himself to oblige her rather than making the request of Maeve.

He filled it at the sink, dropping several ice cubes in it, before he crossed back over and set it in front of her.

"I hope you have no objections to tap water," he said. His tone sounded apologetic, but she doubted it would matter if she did or not.

"None at all," she said, carefully seeing to it that her grin didn't slip. Aware that she was no longer playing the part of a ditz and watching him carefully, she took a sip from the glass.

It occurred to her then that it might be drugged and she choked, spraying droplets of water from her mouth.

Merton looked at her sharply.

"Is everything alright?" he asked.

"Everything's fine," Lila answered, heat flooding her face. She wiped at the water with her hand.

What was she thinking? She had watched him get her water herself.

"I myself can't drink anything other than bottled water," he continued. "Anything else upsets my digestion."

He settled himself back in his chair and leaned forward, steepling his fingers together. He scrutinized her in a way that made Lila feel violated- like he was peering into her inner soul.

She shifted uncomfortably in her seat, but refused to take her eyes off of him.

Two could play this game, couldn't they? Even Hollywood divas like herself.

"You said Meghan had a camera?" Finally, he took his eyes off of her and went to tracing his finger along the grain in the tabletop.

"I…" Lila's mouth felt dry. She took another sip of water. "It's what she told, is all. I imagine the police will find it though. And, when they do, they'll find who killed her. Isn't that a good thing?" She tacked the last part on a little too innocently. Almost immediately, she realized her mistake, but it was too late to backtrack now.

If Merton was suspicious, however, he didn't allow it to show.

Slowly, Lila's muscles began to relax and she took another sip of her drink. She allowed herself to indulge the idea that he hadn't noticed.

Merton wasn't known for hiring women for their brains, rather than their legs. She doubted he saw her as anything more than another pretty face.

If she played this right, maybe it could work.

She could get a confession out of Merton.

Lila tapped her fingers against the glass and watched him.

"Did you tell the police about that camera, Lila?" he asked slowly.

She hesitated. Her mouth opened before she shut it with a soft snap.

"Yes," she said, softly. "Why wouldn't I? If it helped catch Meghan's killer…"

"Shit." Merton turned away, agitated. He ran two hands through his hair and whipped back around to face her.

"What…?" Lila began. She cut herself off with a gasp as Merton grabbed her arm, pulling her from her seat. Her elbow caught her glass, knocking it over.

"Did they look at the tapes?" he asked, eyes intent as they bored into her. He grasped her other arm. "Did they?"

"I don't know! Let me go! You're hurting me!"

Something seemed to come over Merton. He released her, his arms falling down to his sides. He stumbled back a step, putting distance between them. He was shaking, she noticed.

Lila wrapped her arms protectively around herself. Her skin throbbed where Merton had grabbed her and she was certain it would bruise. She staggered backwards, watching him.

She had struck a nerve. More than that, she was now absolutely certain and with that certainty came a new kind of realization.

She was in over her head. She had acted rashly, come here on her own without even a word to let Spencer know.

Now she was alone with a man who had killed once before.

Lila's eyes flickered to the doorway she had seen Maeve disappear through, as if by doing so she could make the woman magically appear again.

There was no sign of her.

But even if there were, she knew it was no guarantee that Merton wouldn't hurt her.

What did she know about Merton's housekeeper?

She was just as likely to be perfectly aware of his actions as to not be.

Lila swallowed nervously, heart rate picking up. She didn't realize she had backed up a step until her back hit the counter. Her heart caught in her throat.

Merton tilted his head. He had noticed her change in position, the change in the way she was holding herself. He knew she was afraid. "Am I scaring you, Lila?" he asked, voice soft and smooth as silk.

Lila opened her mouth, intending to flat-out tell him 'no,' but her tongue refused to shape the word.

"What reason have I given you to be afraid, Lila?" He approached, like a leopard stalking in the jungle. His movements were slow and precise, fluid. His hand reached up to cup her cheek. "You don't think I killed her, do you, Lila?"

Lila ran her tongue over her lips. "Did you?" she rasped.

"Did Meghan really have a camera?"

"Yes." Instinctively, she pressed herself harder against the countertop. There was nowhere else for her to go.

Merton was close to her, far too close.

His hand on his skin, his body too close, keeping her penned in.

She was hyper-aware of how vulnerable she was.

Lila panicked. She ducked under his arm, running for the door.

His fingers snagged in her hair, yanking her back. Lila yelped as she was thrown to the ground. Her head bounced off the tile floor. Disoriented, she blinked back stars and when her vision cleared, Merton was standing over her.

Lila struggled to push herself up, to crawl forward.

Before she could, Merton grabbed her by her arm, hauling her to her feet. He spun her around, slamming her back against the counter.

Lila whimpered.

"What's your game, bitch?" he snarled, spittle flying in her face. His expression was contorted, almost demonic.

Lila grasped his wrists reflexively. "Let go of me!" She wasn't strong enough to get him off of her.

His fingers dug into her shoulder.

"You didn't just come here, Archer. You were always so coy. Always thinking you were too good for me. Is that why you came here? You wanted to show me up? You bitch!"

She dug her nails into his flesh and he released her with a cry of pain. An animalistic roar of rage escaped his throat and he reared back, striking her across the face.

With a small cry, Lila fell against the counter. She raised her hand to her cheek. She was trembling, shaking so hard she thought her knees might give out.

"Robert?"

Merton startled, spinning around.

Maeve stood in the doorway, a hand pressed up against her lips. She looked horrified.

"Robert," she said and her voice was so low or maybe it was only the blood pounding in Lila's head that made it seem that way. "Robert, what is this? What's going on?"  
"Maeve," Merton said. His voice was hoarse, yet he was surprisingly gentle when he addressed her. "Leave the room. I'm laying down the rules for one of my girls."

Maeve's eyes flickered from Merton to Lila. The wheels were turning in her brain.

 _Help me,_ Lila thought at her. _Say something. Call someone. Don't just stand there and do nothing. Please._

Her breaths were coming in short, heavy pants, shoulders heaving. Her hair hung over her face in a tangled mess. The taste of copper was on her tongue. He had made her bleed.

She could only imagine what she must look like.

"Maeve," Merton snapped, impatient now, and just like that, the wheels screeched to a halt.

She met his eyes, a guilty air hovering about her. She wrung her hands, aware she had done something wrong in his eyes, but still willing to make a plea.

"Don't hurt her too badly," she begged, voice rising to a shrill whine. "She's so pretty." She looked at Lila again. "So pretty. It would be such a shame. Ruining a pretty face like that."

"I didn't ask you for your opinion, Maeve," Merton ground out from between clenched teeth. He was losing patience fast.

Maeve spun around on her heel. Evidently, she too detected the change in Merton and had no desire to be caught in the crossfire.

"Wait, no!" Lila lunged forward, desperation lacing her voice. "He'll kill me! Call the police! _Please!_ "

Maeve ducked her head and hurried faster.

"Shut the hell up!" He struck out again.

Lila threw up her hands to defend herself and his blow landed on her forearms. It still hurt like hell and she couldn't help the whimper that escaped.

She couldn't fight him, she knew. He had five inches and at least sixty pounds on her. He was stronger- far stronger- than she was.

No, she couldn't fight him. Not like this.

She scrambled backwards, getting the counter between him and her.

A glint of metal caught her eye and she dove for it.

Merton saw what she was doing a second too late, throwing himself forward to intercept her.

Her hand closed around it and she scrambled backwards, raising it above her head, seeing what it was for the first time. A two prong meat fork.

"Stay away," she managed. Her voice was shaky- shakier than she would have liked, but at least she had the reassurance of the meat fork. "Don't come any close. I swear…"

"You swear what?" That sly, confident smile was firmly fixed in place. He was oily as a serpent, but he was wise enough to keep his distance. His hands were raised in the universal gesture of "I mean you no harm."  
Lila wasn't fooled.

"That you'll kill me if I come any closer? Aren't you afraid of what that might look like, Lila?" he asked. "You'll be arrested for murder. It will ruin your pretty little career for sure."  
"It would be self-defense," Lila argued. "And they have the tape." Time to call on her bluff again. "They'll know you killed Meghan. I'll tell them you tried to kill me. They'll believe me."

"Will they though? Will they know any of that?" His smile didn't slip and Lila felt the first inkling of doubt. Had she been wrong?

It didn't matter, she told herself. His response to her line of questioning was enough to prove that he needed to be put away for a very long time.

He was dangerous.

"You've been operating under the assumption that I killed Meghan, but… what if I didn't?"

He took another step towards her and Lila flinched, raising the meat fork again.

"Don't come any closer," she warned.

Merton heeded her warning, stopping in his tracks, but his eyes were calculating. He ran a tongue over his lips, eyes flicking from left to right. He was looking for a way around her, waiting for her to let her guard down.

She took a cautious half-step back, putting more distance between them.

The doorbell rang, the sound reverberating through the relatively small kitchen.

Lila startled, head whipping towards the hall, and Merton struck, fast as a leopard.

He was on her before she had a chance to move, crushing his hand against her mouth and stifling her cry. His other hand caught her wrist, squeezing painfully until she felt the bones creak and she dropped the meat fork.

It clattered to the floor.

"Shhhh." His hot breath tickled the side of her face, lips brushing up against her ear. Lila closed her eyes, chest constricting. "Don't make a sound, Lila. Don't make a sound."

* * *

 **Note:** So... the end shouldn't be too far from us now. A couple more chapters to wrap things up and then, of course, some time dedicated to the happy couple. Because, after everything, they deserve it.

A note on Maeve's name- it has nothing to do with Maeve Donovan. It was the first name that popped into my mind when trying to decide what to do with the character and, afterwards, I couldn't shake it.

I hope that clears up any confusion that was brought to my attention by one reviewer.

Thanks for sticking with me!


	14. Saviour

**Note:** *peeks nervously around the corner* This didn't take too long, did it? Eep. Sorry for the wait, everyone. But I do want to extend my thanks to anyone who has reviewed, followed or favorited this. We've entered the final stretch and I'm _so excited._ There's something so satisfying about knowing you're only a couple (or maybe a few more) chapters away from finishing a WIP.

There are still some things I wasn't 100% certain on with this chapter, so I might go back and switch things up a bit, but who knows?

Thanks for reading, guys!

* * *

Lila shut her eyes, breathing harshly through her nose.

His grip on her tightened, shifted, as he adjusted his position.

Merton was nervous. She could feel the way his muscles tightened, bunched up against hers.

He was waiting for the same thing she was.

For the doorbell to ring again.

Slowly, the time passed- it felt like an hour, but surely it couldn't have been that long, that she held her breath.

Soon, it became clear.

The doorbell was not going to ring again.

Merton began to relax. His grip on her was no longer so tight.

Lila wondered what that meant for her.

If he thought he was alone now, would he kill her? Dispose of her body somewhere they would never find it?

She doubted Maeve would do anything to prevent it. That she even could do anything if she wanted to.

She had been an idiot. Coming here had been a mistake. One she was going to pay dearly for.

Merton removed his hand from her mouth and Lila sucked in a deep breath. It was a relief to no longer be stifled the way she had been, but she understood that her condition was still no better.

She could scream now, yes. But what would that accomplish? Was anyone still at the door? And if they were, would they come to help her?

It doesn't matter.

If she didn't, she was as good as dead.

Lila gathered her breath just as Merton shoved her from him.

She gave a small cry before crashing into the refrigerator and crumpling to the ground.

Merton was almost immediately on top of her. His hands found her throat. The pressure was light at first, not enough to actually cut her breathing off.

Panicked, Lila grasped his wrists. She was sure she had to look scared out of her mind and the part of her that was still capable of rational thought wondered if he was getting some sort of sick satisfaction out of seeing her terror.

Did he savor it with Meghan too? Did he enjoy her fear, her pain, as he watched her bleed out on the floor?

Or did he consider her not even worth the time?

She wasn't sure which one was worse.

The pressure increased.

Lila clawed at his wrists, trying desperately to suck in air.

Black spots danced before her eyes. They grew steadily larger as it became harder and harder for her to breathe.

Her grip weakened, falling away, and then something was happening.

Someone was shouting. _Someone… Someone…_

Merton's hands fell away from her throat and she gasped. Her own hand flew to her throat, probing the tender skin she found there.

Someone is at her side, hands on her shoulder. Guiding her into being able to sit up. Another hand rubbed her back in gentle, soothing circles.

The figure was saying something.

It took her a moment, but she recognized the voice.

"Emily?"

The dark-haired woman was staring at her, grim-faced.

"Let's help you up."

"Spencer…"

Her eyes fell on him as soon as she spoke.

He stood over Merton, gun trained on him. There was a hard glint in his eyes she had never seen before.

And then, beyond that, she saw Maeve. The woman was leaning against the wall. Her hands were pressed against her face and everything about her slumped posture spoke of being emotionally drained.

"Maeve…" Merton said. Even from where she sat as Emily helped her, Lila could read the betrayal in his tone. She was sure it was etched into every line on his face as well.

He had expected her to let him get away with murder. Of course he felt betrayed.

The woman dropped her hands. Surprisingly, there were no tear stains present on her face.

Instead, she looked furious. Furious and heartbroken, yet she said nothing. Her eyes already held it all.

"Stay on the ground, Merton," Spencer ground out, between clenched teeth. "You've already lost."

* * *

There was a blanket around her shoulders.

When had that gotten there?

She supposed it didn't matter. What mattered were the flashing lights, the uniforms, _Spencer's arm around her shoulders,_ and the fact that Merton was being led away in cuffs.

"Will they get him for Meghan's murder?" Lila asked. Her voice was hoarse and she winced. Her throat still felt tender.

Spencer followed her fingers with his eyes. He looked both critical and concerned.

"He hasn't confessed yet," he told her. Gently, he brought his other hand up to her chin, tilting her head back to get a better look at her neck. "But for your attempted murder, at least," at this, his eyes took on a hard glint of anger, "we have him good."

He dropped his hand away.

Lila missed the contact.

"How did you…" She began to ask how they had come here, how they had known where to come, but she stopped herself.

They would have known. They would have found out.

She wasn't surprised. Only grateful.

Exhausted, Lila let her head fall against Spencer's shoulder. The arm around her tightened protectively, helping to keep her upright.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

"We can talk about that later," Spencer said. With the way he said, she knew they _would_ be talking later. "There's too much else to focus on right now."


	15. Aftermath

**Note:** A special thank you to everyone who has reviewed so far! Especially to MissScorp! I've appreciated every word and if I haven't had the time to respond to a review yet, it's something that I'll try to get to in the near future. Thank you, all of you!

There's also a poll up on my profile now so you can let me know what story you'd like me to work on once my current projects are complete. (A few of them are in the works already.)

* * *

Lila studied her fingers. She was seated comfortably on the couch back at her home, her knees pulled to her chest.

Her throat was still sore. That and the ring of bruises would serve as a reminder of how close she had come to death.

Spencer was sitting next to him. Though she kept her eyes averted, she could still sense when he shifted uncomfortably.

They had hardly spoken since they arrived here. It shouldn't be this way, she thought. Everything that had happened seemed to have pushed them further apart.

 _We're still in shock,_ she thought, sacrificing the study of her nails to wrap her arms around her legs.

It made her feel eleven years old again, but right now she needed the sense of security.

Spencer shifted again, except this time, he spoke. "Lila, what were you thinking?" he asked, voice soft.

 _I wasn't,_ she thought. Out loud, she whispered, "Spencer…"

"You could have died."

"I know." Angry tears formed in her eyes and she swiped at them only half successfully. "I know that."

Without a word, Spencer scooted closer to her. His arm looped around her shoulders. She leaned against his chest and the point of his chin came to rest in her hair.

"We had a case." His words were so soft. "There was a man killing those who he believed had sinned against God. One of his personalities… believed he was the archangel Raphael."

Lila closed her eyes, an attempt to shut out the images that formed in her mind.

Spencer kept talking.

"Hotch sent JJ and I to interview the witness. His name was Tobias Hankel."

His fingers tightened their grip on her shoulder, likely an unconscious reaction as he relived the memories in his head.

"He was the unsub."

Lila's heart skipped a beat. Her hand sought out his. Her fingers wove through his limp ones.

"I didn't want to wait for backup. I was afraid he would get away, that he would find another victim while we scrambled to catch up. My bad decision nearly cost us both our lives."

Lila's throat constricted. "Spencer…"  
"You made a mistake, Lila." A pause. "The same one I made. And you didn't have the benefit of training that I had."

"Spencer…"

He pressed a soft kiss to her temple.

"I'm glad you're safe."


End file.
